Flesh and Blood
by Sadesco
Summary: Part 5 War Stories Saga. Sam & Dean hunt a conclave of demons bent of raising Beleth up as the new Demon leader, while Hannah races to reunite the troubled spirit of John Winchester with his battle weary sons. DWOC MA Language & sexual Content.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 – Flesh and Blood**

**291 Days**

**Spokane, Washington – 7:00am**

Dean rolled over to strike the alarm clock where it wailed next to his head. Once again he had awoken with the edgy need that was becoming and intrinsic part of his current existence. Sam still hadn't stirred, so Dean didn't mind throwing back the covers and heading for the bathroom, ignoring the morning erection that pushed uselessly against his boxers.

Dean walked into the bathroom and stood before his reflection in the small motel mirror. He studied his features and was slightly taken back at how ragged he looked. He hadn't shaved in a few days so patchy stubble clung to his chin, and he wasn't sleeping well so heavy dark bruises had appeared under his eyes.

He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair and turned away from his reflection in disgust. He started the shower and stripped off his faded t-shirt and boxer shorts before climbing in. The water streamed down over his face and body and he felt a measure of relief at its warmth.

Dean's existence had become all about the job. He found joy in nothing and every waking moment he made his mind focus. He and Sam had spent three very long days at Bobby's hunting cabin, monitoring the news and the police websites for any information about their run in with Hendrickson, all the while Sam had been researching up incidents that happened in Spokane. Why he had suddenly become fixated with the city in Washington, Dean didn't know, and he had stopped asking.

Dean dunked his head under the spray and turned his face towards the falling water, as he let the water run over him, his mind turned to the Doc, as it seemed to constantly. It didn't matter if he was awake or asleep, the idea of the woman seemed to haunt him everywhere. As soon as his thoughts turned to the Doc, recollections of the dream that he had about her flooded him and he felt the blood rapidly heading south.

In reality, Dean had kissed her only once, barely touching her, but in his dreams Dean had taken her every night in every conceivable way since he had said goodbye to her ten days ago. His body throbbed incessantly, but he knew from experience that taking care of his need just left him feeling empty and pathetic, so he reached for the faucet and cranked up the cold water.

While the cold water could quell his body's ache for her for a short while, he still missed her in a way he didn't think was possible. Dean had never been a romantic, in fact he could count on one hand the number of woman in his life that he had anything more than a passing attraction for, but with the Doc, it seemed different. He had no secrets from her, he could be completely who he was and take pride in what he did. She pretty much knew him warts and all and still she hadn't turned her back on him.

For Dean that was a completely new feeling. He didn't share much of himself often and he was the first to admit that he probably didn't share well, but that didn't mean that he didn't need to from time to time. In the past, either his father or Sam had been his sounding board, but with his father gone and Sam going through a change that Dean honestly couldn't comprehend, he felt like he was very much alone in the world.

That was why when the Doc had called him nearly a week ago, he had nearly leapt around for joy. The only problem was that he had made himself a vow, once made, he would never go back on, so he had watched the Doc's caller ID flash on his phone until, it changed to a missed called message. Then he had listened to her voice mail message over and over when Sam had been out getting them some food. She had asked him to call her, and he had been sorely tempted to, but he had resisted.

Since then, she had been persistent, sending him text messages and leaving messages on his voice mail nearly every day. Dean had kept that little fact from Sam as long as he could, but soon Sam figured it out. When that happened, it seemed that Dean's torture doubled. If not being able to answer the Doc wasn't bad enough, then listening to Sam raise his suspicions was pure hell.

Sam never pushed the issue, but every time Dean's phone would beep or ring, Sam would make a comment to the effect _'If she really cared for you, surely she would respect your wishes and stop calling '_ or _'She's got to want something else from you if she is this insistent.'_

Sometimes it hurt so badly that Dean had wanted to believe him. It would at least make leaving the Doc just that much more tolerable. More often than not he just ignored his brother and focused on the job.

Dean lathered up his hair with the cheap motel shampoo, ignoring the suds that slipped down his face and threatened to sting his eyes. Then he dropped his head under the shower spray and let the flow of water rinse away the suds, he turned his face into the spray again pushing the hair out of his eyes. Dean stood that way for a long while, wishing that the cleansing water would somehow wash away all of his doubt and confusion.

He climbed out of the shower, pulling a towel from the nearby rack. As he rubbed himself dry his couldn't help but notice the collection of scars that he was accumulating. The long slashing scar that Thammuz had given him on his chest, was still angry and red. He would have it for life, but somehow he could accept that as being par for the course in his line of work.

Idly he wondered what story he would have to come up with to explain it to his would be lovers, perhaps a car accident, or some noble act like saving a child from being trapped in a well or something. Dean ran the towel roughly over his head, shaking the water from his hair, then he wrapped the sodden towel around his waist and grabbing his discarded clothes he went back out into the darkened room.

Dean tossed his boxers and t-shirt on the bed and riffled through his duffle until he had a fresh change of clothes. He dressed quickly, rubbing his hair again with the towel. Then he returned the towel to the bathroom, cleaned his teeth and left his brother to sleep as he went out into the early morning bustle as the residents of Spokane all tried to get to work on time.

Dean slipped the keys from the pocket of his jacket and slid into the driver's seat of the pick up that the brother's had borrowed from Bobby. The Impala was too hot right now, so Sam had convinced Dean to leave it garaged at Bobby's cabin for a while. While Dean had agreed in principle, it just didn't feel right belting across the country in Bobby's pick up. He didn't get the same sense of comfort behind the wheel of the pick-up as he did when he drove the Impala. It was just one more thing in a long line of things that was upsetting Dean's sense of the universe.

Dean backed up and drove out of the Motel car park into the beginning of the peak hour traffic. As far as cities went, Spokane was prettier than most, with plush parklands and the river flowing through it. Dean had been able to glean from Sam that he believed that there was a conclave of demons centring in on the city, but as yet he hadn't given Dean any details beyond that, so Dean had spent his time, trolling through the local papers and watching the news reports on the television. If Sam was right and there were demons gathering in Spokane, it wouldn't be long before the carnage started and when it did, Dean and Sam would be there.

**

* * *

291 Days**

**Wakonda – South Dakota – 9:58am**

Hannah looked up from the map that she was studying, wiping at her tired eyes in agitation. She had been driving since the break of dawn, and her eyes were now irritated and sore. Her head also ached dully but she was fairly certain that was from the energy of John Winchester, as he pulsed incessantly at the periphery of her consciousness, a thing he had done since she had detected him six days ago.

She had tried to contact Dean, she had rung and left messages, but he hadn't returned any of her attempts. After that had not worked Hannah had tried to reach out to Dean, connect with him in the same way that she had done weeks ago when he was in Reno, but she had been unable to. She had reached for him with every ounce of energy that she had, focussing in on him with a singular purpose, but instead of finding him, like she had been able to so easily in the past, she found nothing.

If Hannah had any doubts that the spirit of John Winchester was not on the level about his sons being in danger, her inability to link with Dean soon quelled all of those. Hannah began to fear for him. In the past anytime Hannah had a worry for Dean, she was able to slip into his mind like a gentle breeze and get a sense of how he was, she had done it with such ease that she almost took if for granted... until now.

Four days ago with her fear weighing on her like and anchor, she had packed her gear and jumped into Charlotte and hit the road. Hannah wasn't even sure where she was going. Her internal compass told her where books of power lay, but it wouldn't lead her to the Winchester brothers and without her connection to Dean she was all but riding blind.

John Winchester had given her a few possible locations to try, but the last three had been a bust, and Hannah was growing more and more frustrated. She felt like she had suddenly had her sight taken away and left in a world without direction or guidance.

Once again she smoothed the map over Charlotte's hood and tried to get her bearings, looking at the streets that intersected the small town of Wakonda. As she studied the map again, she was vaguely aware of the car that pulled up behind hers, she became aware of the sound of boots striking the pavement and she looked up to see two Highway Patrol officers walking towards her.

She stood straight smiling at them as she absently brushed the creases from her suit pants.

"Car trouble Ma'am?" asked one of the officers, his soft lilting accent curling his words into a gentle question.

"No" replied Hannah looking up at the man and then across at his partner who stood on the other side of Charlotte. "I'm just a little lost."

"I take it you're not a local?" said the other patrol man, and Hannah watched as his mouth broke into a crocked grin.

"However could you tell?" replied Hannah, making her own accent thicker as she spoke. One thing that she had learnt in her travels was to never alienate the people that could potentially help you.

"Where are you headed?" replied the first patrol man glancing down at the map on Charlotte's hood.

"I'm going to the Angostura Reservoir and I'm just trying to figure out the fastest route." She said, pointing to a spot on the map.

"Hell, that's clear on the other side of the state" said the first patrolman looking at the expanse on the map.

"You got someone driving with you or are you doing this alone?"

Hannah looked up at the second patrolman who had stepped off of the curb and was also looking at the map. For a brief moment Hannah was tempted to say that she wasn't travelling alone, but she didn't think the dead spirit of the father of a friend of hers counted as a travel companion.

"No, it's just me." she said with a subtle shrug and a smile.

The patrolman smiled back at her "Well if those Rhode Island plates are anything to go off then it looks to me like you don't find distance a problem."

Hannah smiled but said nothing; there was something about knowing how much the patrolman had observed that unnerved her slightly.

The first patrolman tilted his head from left to right as if he was weighing up options and then her nodded to himself as if he had come to some great epiphany.

"I reckon your best bet is to get on to the 46 and follow that all the way through to Pickston. Then on the other side of the river if you get on the 18 and just stick like glue to that you should be fine, what do you think Mike?"

The second patrolman followed his partner's finger on the map and nodded in agreement.

"It will take you a little further south than you'd probably expected to go, but if you stay on the 18 then you should be fine and there will be plenty of places along the way where you can stop for gas or put up for the night."

Hannah smiled at the two patrol men following the thick yellow line across the map with her eyes.

"Gentlemen that sounds a lot like a plan to me. Now all I have to do is find my way to the 46 and I should be fine."

"Why don't you follow us Ma'am, where heading up to the Highway now. We'll be headed in the other direction when we get there, but it will at least take one obstacle out of your journey." The young patrol men both smiled at her and she couldn't help but note how pleasant they both were.

More and more often these days, Hannah started to realise that there were so many good and decent people on the earth that deserved to live there life in peace. If Sam and Dean couldn't stop the demon hordes, then a lot of these people would be the ones to suffer.

"Thank you. I really appreciate your help" said Hannah almost solemnly as she held out her hands to the two men who had stopped to help. As she took each of their hands and shook them in turn, she prayed that they would be left unscathed by what lay ahead.

The two patrolmen went back to their squad car as Hannah folded up the map and slid in behind Charlotte's wheel. She waited for the squad car to pull out and then followed the two patrolmen through the small neighbourly streets of Wakonda. A few minutes later the patrol car pulled up to a T junction, where the Highway sign was clear.

Hannah pulled up next to them, indicating in the opposite direction. She wound down the window and paused a moment before taking off.

"Thanks again for your help." She said with a subtle wave.

"Take care Ma'am" said the patrolman in the passengers seat "Drive safe."

With that Hannah turned on to the highway and watched in the rear view mirror as the patrol car headed in the opposite direction. Hannah waited until they were well out of sight and then opened Charlotte up, allowing the powerful engine to pull her down the road. She had a lot of distance to cover and she knew that she was running out of time.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Flesh and Blood**

**291 Days**

**Spokane, Washington – 8:45am**

Elfin eyes watched as the beat up bronco pulled back into the parking lot of the motel. She swung the teddy bear she carried unconsciously as she watched the truck's driver slip out of the cab. She was fairly certain that her vantage point under the branches of the weeping willow was well hidden from his line of sight, but even still, she unconsciously moved deeper into the shadows that the branches provided.

He didn't even look up towards her, he just tucked a couple of news papers under his arm and grabbed a cardboard tray that he two coffee cups and a tall paper bag resting on it and headed towards the motel room.

Her companion sat further back, resting up against the trunk of the tree as she studied the pages of the magazine that stood open in her lap.

"Its strange." she said quietly to the elfin little girl, knowing instinctively to keep her voice low "I can't feel them anymore, not like before."

The tiny blonde girl turned her ancient eyes towards her travelling partner and scrutinised her for a moment.

"You wouldn't" she said simply "He is shielding their presence."

The girl looked up sharply from her magazine meeting the ancient and fathomless eyes of the child that stood before her.

"I thought that was something only you could do?" She said, a small amount of awe touching her voice.

The child smiled, her soft pink lips bowing in the corner revealing a deep dimple in her alabaster cheek.

"Me too." She said, sounding more pleased than angry "I don't know where he learnt that, but it is a fabulous talent."

"Could you teach me?" asked the teenager looking up with hopeful eyes.

"No" said the girl, her tone broking no sort of argument. The teenager was used to hearing that tone now. She had learnt that arguing and pleading did nothing to help her cause so she fell silent, sullenly returning her gaze to her magazine.

Little did she know that her companion would never teach her the one skill that would enable her to sever their connection. It was now a matter of self preservation. If the 'chosen' were progressing so far with their abilities, in the future she would have to be very careful what she taught her young protégé lest it come back to bite her in the ass.

Without looking up from her magazine the young 'chosen' whispered in a surly voice "If he is shielding their presence, then how did you know they were here?"

The elfin child turned her attention back to the hotel room, with the beaten up Bronco parked outside. The only reason that she had known, was some very careful planning and a whole heap of contingencies put in place well before this time. She had learnt long ago to be extremely cautious and that instinct was now paying off.

"I always know." She replied, trying to put an air of certainty in her voice. It wouldn't pay to advertise any vulnerability and what her young protégé didn't know wouldn't get her killed.

* * *

**Spokane, Washington – 8:37am**

Sam ran a hand agitatedly through his hair as he sat on the step next to his mother. He looked at the stairwell in front of him, trying to make sense of the thoughts in his mind.

"I just wish Mike had given me more to go on Mom." Said Sam in agitation "We've been in Spokane for four days now and I can't find a thing that would corroborate that Rimmon was ever here let alone was here and gathering forces."

Mary Winchester turned gentle eyes on her son and stroked his hair, trying to sooth the tension she could feel within him. The fact of the matter was that he hadn't been exactly grateful for Mike's information, but she thought now was not the best time to perhaps bring that up.

"I think I am going to have to just bite the bullet and tell Dean that I was wrong." He said chewing on his nails in a nervous gesture.

"I wouldn't be too quick to do that Sam." She counselled wrapping her hand around his to stop him worrying at it. "Whatever his motives, Mike sent you and your brother here for a reason. I suggest that you try and find out what that reason is."

Sam turned his large brown eyes back to his mothers face. "Mom, for all I know Mike may have tipped Rimmon off to the fact that we were coming. Hell he could have packed up shop and got the hell out of dodge a week ago for all I know."

"Is that what your gut is telling you?" asked Mary, keeping her tone largely neutral.

"My gut and I haven't been on speaking terms lately." confessed Sam with a sigh.

"Seriously Sam, what are your instincts telling you?" questioned Mary, rubbing her hand gently across Sam's tense shoulders.

"I think he's here" confessed Sam "I just don't know where to look."

Mary smiled and kissed him on the head, pushing his hair away from his face. "You'll think of something. You are your father's son."

"I'm my mother's son too." said Sam smiling up at the pretty blonde woman.

He treasured these moments with her, but the irony of it all was not lost on him. He had lost her to a demon and now another was giving her back to him.

"Maybe I need to push aside my pride and apologise to Mike." He said finally and he smiled as Mary Winchester screwed up her face in distaste.

"Why don't you give it one more day, before you go asking for Mike's help again." She said warmly "I know you don't trust him and personally I think you have good reason not to."

Sam looked at his Mother with keen interest. When it came to the subject of Mike, Mary had often been diplomatic, providing a counterpoint to Sam's clear dislike of the entity, but he had never heard her express her own opinion until now.

"After what happened last time Mom, Mike might not even come back." said Sam watching his mother closely.

"Oh no, I think he'll be back. In fact I'm almost sure he never left, we just can't see him."

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise "How can you be sure?"

Mary smiled at him again, her corn flower blue eyes filling with an inner light. "Because I'm still here."

Mary held her son's gaze for a moment and then took a deep breath straightening her spine.

"Why don't you try talking to Dean about all this Rimmon business? Perhaps what you need is a fresh perspective on this."

Sam clenched his teeth grimacing slightly as his brother's name. Dean and Sam's relationship was still a little shaky after what happened in Oklahoma and Dean had seemed to go into a strange sort of shut down mode. It seemed to get worse when he received the phone calls from Hannah.

"I don't know if that is such a good idea at the moment Mom. Dean is still pretty raw with me and this thing with Hannah has just made it worse."

"You were right to trust your instincts on that." said Mary, curling her hands together in her lap "I'm almost convinced now that she meant to cause trouble between you and your brother."

"Maybe?" said Sam sounding some what unconvinced "All I know is that every time she calls, Dean gets real quiet and I can feel the sadness rolling off of him. He hasn't yet returned her call so I'm hoping that maybe she'll eventually give up and give him some time to get over it."

"What if she comes looking for him?" asked Mary watching her son intently "I thought you said that she had found him once or twice before."

"I don't think she'll come." said Sam "I'm protecting our presence from anyone trying to find us psychically and I'm fairly certain she had no idea where we were headed."

Mary's smile widened and she looked at her son as if impressed "I didn't know you could do that?"

Sam smiled "I practised it after my run in with Thammuz. I don't ever want to leave myself or Dean vulnerable like that again."

Mary cupped her son's cheek "My son" she said softly "Wise beyond his years."

* * *

**Spokane, Washington – 8:45am**

Dean juggled his arm full of breakfast and coffee on his hip as he wrestled with the keys in the motel room door. He had gone out over and hour ago, and still Sam had not stirred from his slumber.

Dumping his load of food and papers on the small round faux wood table, Dean went over to his brother's bed and shook the long limb that hung out from under the covers.

"Come on Sam…Get up." Dean said, his impatience coming through in his words.

Sam started awake, looking around with bleary eyes at his surroundings.

"What time is it?" he asked, running a rough hand over his face.

"Almost 9" said Dean going back to the table and taking a seat. He pulled one of the tall coffee cups out of the disposable tray and pulled the top off, inhaling the aromatic steam that escaped from underneath.

"I bought back coffee and breakfast." He said as he opened the local Spokane newspaper and started looking through the headlines.

"Thanks" replied Sam pulling himself out of bed and running a hand through his matted hair. He took a seat opposite his brother and helped himself to the other coffee in the tray.

"Have you been up for long?" he asked, watching as Dean resolutely focused all of his attention on the paper he had open in front of him.

"A while" replied Dean absently taking another sip from his coffee.

"What's for breakfast?" continued Sam trying desperately to engage his brother in conversation. Opening the bag, Sam pulled out a couple of bundles neatly wrapped in grease proof paper.

"Egg and bacon roll or jelly donut" explained Dean looking up briefly.

Sam smiled at his brother's selection "Healthy way to start the day." He commented more to himself than anything, but Dean looked up sharply from his paper.

"If you don't like it, you might want to drag your own arse out of bed earlier and get your own breakfast."

Sam looked at his brother and felt the same sharp pain in his stomach he always felt when he was sensing Dean's pain. It was hard for Sam to get his nose out of joint when he could sense the depth of Dean's despair.

"No Man" said Sam, holding up his hands as if in surrender "I'm just grateful that you thought to get me anything."

"Well eat quick." said Dean, his tone decidedly less hostile than before "We need to get to work."

Sam took a large sip from his cup of coffee, ignoring the way that the hot liquid scalded his tongue slightly and then un-wrapping the egg and bacon roll, he unceremoniously stuffed a large bite into his mouth.

It was a quite late in the morning, and he could forgive Dean for being frustrated, so he ate as he organised himself a fresh change of clothes. Sam jumped in the shower, rapidly running through his morning routine, and when he was finished, he went back out to where his brother sat, his damp hair making his t-shirt wet where they met.

When Sam stepped out of the bathroom he noted that Dean was intensely studying a section towards the back of the news paper. Not wanting to intrude on Dean's space and look over his shoulder, Sam went to his bed and began repacking his duffle.

"Found something?" he questioned mildly watching Dean intensely.

"Maybe" replied Dean distractedly. He made a quick note in the journal in front of him on the table, the journal Sam recognised as the one Hannah had given him after their encounter in Iowa.

"Remember when Ash mentioned that every demon presence left signs, sometimes so small that they virtually went unnoticed?"

Sam stopped what he was doing and looked up at his brother, intrigued by what Dean was saying.

"I've been watching the papers since we got here and the weather is listed with the projected, the actual and the average temperatures. Over the last four days the temperature has been 4 degrees higher than average every single day."

"You think that means something?" questioned Sam, moving over to sit back down at the table.

"I don't know" confessed Dean still studying the paper "But I think that it is weird that it is consistently 4 degrees don't you?"

"Maybe?" said Sam, but he knew that he didn't sound at all convinced. "But it could also just be El Nino or something."

"Yeah, I thought of that too." said Dean scrolling down his notes "But there also seems to be a jump in the number of vicious dog attacks in the last week or so. I mean check this out, this article refers to the total number of dog attacks in Spokane for all of last year and it was twelve. In the last week, there were five reported to animal control."

"Dog Attacks?" questioned Sam "Is that among the demon sign we should be looking for?"

Dean looked at Sam across the table, a lot of his frustration showing on his face.

"Demon presence can have affects on cattle and sheep, why not dogs? Dad always theorised that animals where a hundred times more sensitive to the paranormal than humans."

"I don't know" confessed Sam "It just seems a little thin to me."

"Well this is the best I could come up with, so unless you got something else hot shot, we either check out the dog attacks or we move on."

Sam almost winced at Dean's caustic tone. He didn't mean to be a naysayer to all of his brother's hard work, and given what they had to go on there was credence to what Dean was putting forward. Sam just felt that if there was a conclave of demons gathering in Spokane, that there would have been bigger signs than unseasonably warm whether and a few vicious dogs.

"Alright" conceded Sam again holding up his hands in surrender "We check out the dog attacks."

Scowling Dean collected up his things, slipping the keys to the Bronco from his pocket. Sam followed behind him, shrugging into his jacket and grabbing the jelly donut where it lay, still wrapped, on the table.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Flesh and Blood**

**291 Days**

**Spokane, Washington – 9:44am**

Dean pulled the Bronco into the car park out the front of the Animal Control building. For a civic building, the white concrete rendered building looked surprisingly modern and well care for. It had only taken him a simple phone call to directory assistance to get the address of the building and as the traffic from rush hour had all but died, it had only taken them about twenty minutes to get across town to where the Animal Control centre was located.

As they climbed out of the truck, Sam chanced a look at Dean's stern face.

"You got a plan Dean?" asked Sam using his long stride to catch him up to his brother's shoulders.

"Yep." said Dean sharply, but even though Sam waited he didn't elaborate.

"You going to let me in on it?" questioned Sam as they near the double doors to the front office.

"Nope." said Dean opening the heavy glass door and slipping inside.

"Great." muttered Sam under his breath as he followed his brother inside.

Dean walked up to the front counter, were a young skinny looking man, with a closely cropped hair cut looked up from where he was working and smiled at them. His eyes filling with sudden admiration as the brother's stepped up to the counter.

"Good Morning." he said in slightly effeminate tones "Can I help you?"

Sam and Dean exchanged brief looks and Sam was heartened to see a shadow of amusement in Dean's eye.

"Yes Hi." said Dean, effecting his most endearing smile "I'm Dean Simmons and this is my research assistant Sam. I understand you're expecting me."

Sam smiled at the man, trying to keep the look of bewilderment off of his face. The man behind the counter had no such luck., his thin lipped mouth pouting as he looked down at a diary the lay opened before him.

"Simmons, you said?" asked the man, running his hand across the book and looking at it with growing concern on his face.

"Yes, were the research fellows from WSU. I'm sure my professor spoke with your boss about our arrival."

The guy looked up at him with clear disappointment in his face. "No" he said almost wistfully "There is nothing here in the appointment book."

"Really?" said Dean looking at Sam with almost melodramatic disappointment plastered on his face. "Damn."

Dean turned his eyes to the attendant, letting a smile ever so slightly touch the corner of his mouth. "Look …I'm sorry what was your name?"

"Kirk" said the attendant, colour rising to his cheeks slightly.

"Of course" said Dean with a broad smile on his face "Kirk, I wonder if you can help me. Sam and I are doing a research paper on the instances of domestic animal attacks in the United States and we had heard about the recent increase in vicious dog attacks in Spokane. I was hoping that I might be able to interview some people for my paper, get a handle on the specific behaviours and things exhibited by these animals?"

Kirk watched as Dean spoke, leaning closer to him across the counter almost mesmerised by the way his mouth moved. When Dean had finished speaking there was an awkward silence and Dean and Sam exchanged slightly bemused looks.

"Kirk?" Dean finally prompted and the skinny attendant shook himself out of his reverie.

"What?" he said slightly startled and then he smiled, colour coming to his cheeks. "Sure, I don't see why not." Kirk sauntered over to where there was a small gate in the desk and opened it with almost melodramatic finesse.

"Wendy one of our animal control officers and our head vet Dr Rashir are out the back in the kennels, I'm sure they would be happy to speak with you."

Kirk stood to one side as Dean and Sam walked through, eyeing the brothers as they went past. Sam couldn't be absolutely sure, but he thought he heard Kirk hum softly in his throat as he looked each of the brothers up and down.

"If' you'd like to follow me out the back" Kirk said finally and sashayed off through the office.

In spite of his foul mood, Dean couldn't help smiling back at Sam as they watched the man walk ahead of them. As John Winchester used to say, Kirk had a definite hitch in his giddy-up.

The trio moved through the office of administrative workers until, Kirk lead them to a heavy door towards the back of the building. As soon as Kirk opened the door the air was filled with barking and the desperate mews of the captured dogs and cats.

Dean followed Kirk through rows and rows of cages, a number of them filled with some unfortunate animal. Many of them were convalescing from recent procedures and Dean had to avert his eyes. He had never had a pet growing up, his lifestyle didn't exactly suite owning a dog or a cat, but he always had a real soft spot for animals, and seeing them in pain, just got his back up a bit.

Kirk wound his way through the labyrinth of cages, until he came to a small surgery located at the very rear of the building. Through a large plexiglass window, Sam and Dean could make out the vet and a nurse and one of the animal control officers all working on a large dog.

The dog was snarling and barking and it took both the nurse and the animal control officers full weight to hold the barking gnashing animal down. Dean could see the two women starting to struggle as the dog thrashed with almost preternatural strength, so running on instinct, he pushed Kirk aside and hurried into the room, grabbing on to the dogs head and putting his weight down on it's upper body.

Sam had followed him in and was assisting on the other side and with the added strength and weight the four humans were just barely managing to control the dog that yowled and thrashed on the stainless steel table.

"Hold him steady" cried the vet, in his heavily accented English as he filled a syringe with a large dose of clear fluid. Then hurrying over, he pulled out the animal's front paw and holding as steadily as he was able, injected the beast with the full contents of the needle.

I took a good thirty seconds for the drugs to take affect, but Dean wasn't letting go until he was confident that the animal was completely under. As if sensing his intentions, that others maintained their hold also, until the vet listened to the animal's chest through his stethoscope.

"It's all right" said the vet finally "He's gone." And with that he stood, tossing the stethoscope around his neck with practised ease.

As they all moved away from the dog, all eyes turned to Sam and Dean and they could feel the curiosity settle on the room.

"Hi there." said Dean, breaking the silence that was beginning to grow slightly tense. "I'm Dean Simmons and this is Sam."

"Well it is nice to meet you." said the white coated vet "but what are you doing in my surgery?"

Dean and Sam exchanged looks at the vet's terse tone. He sounded about as pleased to see them as if they had been from the IRS.

"Dr Rashir" interrupted Kirk "These men are from WSU and are doing some research into our recent spate of dog attacks."

The doctor looked at Sam and Dean, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny "And, what am I to do with them then?" question the vet caustically.

"Well Charles just said that he was happy to extend the cooperation of his staff to assist these gentlemen."

Both Dean and Sam looked at Kirk as the bold faced lie slipped easily from his lips. He had obviously developed all the tools in dealing with the generally unpleasant vet. When he was done he gave them a subtle smile and Sam had to suppress the instinct to laugh.

"We just have a few question for either yourself or one of the control officers." qualified Dean "We'll try not to get in your way or take up too much of your time."

"Wendy will answer all of you questions." The Dr said shortly then turning to the nurse with almost a grimace he gestured rudely at the dog lying on the table. "Take care of this." He said before disappearing into an office hidden deeper in the surgery.

The vet nurse looked up at the brothers apologetically "Thanks for your help" she said with a slightly lame smile and got busy with disposing of the dogs body.

Kirk sidled over to them and smiling a conspirator's smile. He took a moment to straighten Dean's lapel. "Wendy will take care of you, just stop by when you're done and let me know how you went." With that he sashayed out of the surgery and disappeared in the labyrinth of cages.

As he disappeared the brothers could hear Wendy chuckling quietly to herself.

"Looks like you made a friend." said the woman going to extend her hand and then reconsidering quickly.

"I'm Wendy." she said looking slightly apologetically at the heavy bandage around her hand.

Dean smiled at her as did Sam. "I'm Dean and this is Sam."

Wendy smiled and the brothers took a moment to study her. When one thought animal control officer, the girl standing in front of them didn't immediately spring to mind. Wendy was probably in her mid twenties and had short cropped golden blonde hair. She was quite tall, almost as tall as Dean, but her frame was lean almost willowy.

Her khaki uniform seemed to hang off her awkwardly, but the fault was more in the cut of the uniform than anything about the girl. Dean suspected under the unflattering folds of the uniform, Wendy probably had a great body.

"Do you mind if we walk and talk, I'm on feeding duty." She said and the brothers happily fell into step with her as she walked out into the noisy corridors of the kennels.

"I have to apologise for Dr Rashir." She said tapping lovingly on some of the cages where dogs yapped and clambered for attention "He's a really great vet and usually a pretty good guy, but putting an animal down tends to put him in a really bad mood."

"I can understand that." said Sam also touching the noses that were pressed with desperation to the edge of cages.

"So tell me what your research is about and I'll see if I can answer your questions." said Wendy, leading the brothers into a large workroom away from all the animals.

"Sam and I are animal behaviour researchers and we are just looking at the incidence of dog attacks across the United States. The recent escalation of the attacks here in Spokane seems a little strange so we just wanted to look into it, hear about peoples observations of the animal's behaviour; stuff like that."

Dean watched the girl as she moved around the workroom pulling different packets of stuff from the wall and mixing them in a large bucket. When she got to a large sack of dry food, she struggled for a moment with her injured hand, until Sam stepped in and took it from her.

"Well I can tell you about it first hand." she said holding up the heavily bandaged limb. "Pour it all in please" she said diverting her attention to Sam who was filling the bucket with the dry dog food.

With her left hand she began mixing up the contents of the bucket, until Sam gently insisted on doing it and muscled her out of the way. She watched him for a moment and then looked over to where Dean was leaning on a work bench.

"So you were bitten?" asked Dean trying to prompt the girl into retelling her story.

"Yeah" she said measuring out cups of the mixture that Sam was preparing and putting it into stainless steel bowls "We got a call from a woman in Yardley who was worried about a pack of dogs that was getting into the trash and generally making a nuisance out of themselves. I went around to investigate and sure enough, there was a pack of about a dozen dogs."

"Strays?" asked Dean

"No" said Wendy, her face clouding over was some dark emotion. "That's just it, a lot of the dogs had collars on, they weren't strays and they were mostly in pretty good condition so they shouldn't have been in hunting mode."

"Hunting mode?" questioned Sam for his position on the floor.

"Yeah." Said Dean looking at his brother "there have been cases where poorly treated domestic dogs have banded together in a pack and in the pursuit of food they exhibit the same communal hunting behaviours as a pack of wolves."

Wendy smiled at him in agreement, while Sam just looked on in mild surprise.

"So you don't think that was the case here though?" persisted Dean.

"No" said Wendy adamantly "Any way, I called in another officer and we decided that we would go for the Alpha. Once you remove the Alpha male, usually the domestic dogs will loose interest and go home."

"And what happened?" pushed Dean

"These mutts were smart, they took us into really difficult terrain and they made sure that we could never box them in. They seemed to be working together, because if we ever got too close to one of them, there would be several others harassing us and biting at out heels. I've never seen anything quite like it."

"So you would characterise there behaviour as abnormal?" asked Sam and Wendy looked at him.

"Are you kidding me" she exclaimed " I've worked with some vicious animals before, but you can usually figure out what it prompting the aggression, you know, some times their scared or hungry, sometimes they are testing the lines of dominance, some times their protecting a litter or a territory, but this I couldn't figure out why these dogs were so aggressive. And it wasn't just one of them, it was all of them. It was like they were possessed or something."

At Wendy's flippant remark the brothers exchanged knowing glances.

"And the bite?" questioned Dean

"Well I managed to get one of the lower females on my pole. She was struggling a treat and jumping all over the place, so I called out to Warren to hook his pole on her too to try and control her when we put her in the truck. Before he could even make a move the Alpha came out of nowhere and got a solid grip on me. Warren dropped his pole and pulled out his hot stick."

"Hot stick?" questioned Sam again.

"Yeah, it's like a cattle prod I guess, but with a lower voltage. We don't use them too often, but dealing with highly aggressive animals you tend to carry them just in case."

"So Warren got him with the hot stick and he let you go?" continued Dean

"Hell no" replied Wendy slightly incredulously "Warren got maybe a dozen of so hits in with the stick and the dog barely flinched, he just kept a hold of me, until I dropped my pole. As soon as I dropped the pole he got the female out of it and took off with the pack."

"Wow." said Dean "That is weird."

"Yeah" said Wendy poignantly "I looked into that dogs eyes and for a moment I thought I was going to loose my hand."

"Has anyone else tried to bring the dogs in?" questioned Sam

"Well, this happened just over a week ago and all the other officers have been keeping an eye out, but no one has come across the pack yet. Where getting some aggressive individuals, but the pack seems to have either broken up or gone to ground somewhere."

"Was the big guy from the surgery part of the pack you saw?" questioned Dean

"No" said Wendy, strategically filling more stainless steel bowls and setting them across the work bench "He was a family pet, who mauled one of the family's kids day before yesterday."

"Really?" questioned Sam, using a measuring cup to pour the mixture of dog food in the bowls that Wendy laid out. "What happened?"

"Hard to say." Wendy confessed with a shrug of her shoulders "It had been with the family from a puppy for almost four years and then one day it just snaps and attacks their seven year old son."

"Was the boy badly injured?" questioned Dean, getting involved with the little production line of food bowls as he laid out more along the counter top.

"Unfortunately yes" said Wendy with a sigh "Mostly the face and arms. He's still in the hospital, probably will be for a while to come. The dog also bit the father as he tried to pull it off his son. It took two officers to bring it in after the family called."

Dean and Sam exchanged looks of concern.

"I take it there was no biological reason for the change in behaviour, disease maybe?" asked Dean

Wendy looked at him long and hard. "Dr Rashir did a Rabies check and a tox screen on the animal, both came back clear. But there was something not right with that animal; I mean you saw for yourself how aggressive he was."

"If it took two officers to bring the animal in, why was it only you and the nurse trying to restrain him in the surgery?" questioned Sam.

Wendy sighed again, as if the whole line of questioning was suddenly making her very tired. "We had him sedated from the moment he arrived at the kennels, five minutes before you came in, that dog was out cold on the table."

"Wow" said Dean raising his eyebrows slightly "This just keeps getting stranger and stranger."

"You're telling me." said Wendy "I have never seen anything like this and I have been working with animals since I was a kid."

"I don't suppose there is any way you could show us the area where you encountered the pack." asked Dean, looking at the blonde woman hopefully.

Wendy sighed slightly looking at the bowls spread out across the table. "I have to get everyone fed first." she said her voice sounding slightly hesitant.

"We can help" offered Sam with a smile.

The animal control officer looked between the two brothers who were looking at her with restrained enthusiasm.

"Sure" she finally relented after a long and considered moment "Why not. I'm going stir crazy couped up in the office anyway."

Dean smiled at her, as did Sam. Picking up a hand full of feed bowls, Wendy indicated that the brothers should follow her lead.

"Alright then, lets go feed the guests." She said finally and the brothers followed her out of the workroom into the kennels.

**

* * *

291 Days**

**Oelrich, South Dakota – 8:15 am**

Hannah looked at the hunting cabin nestled in the trees of the woods. Without the assistance of the spirit of John Winchester she would never have been able to find this place, but now that she was here, she had a vague sense of déjà vu.

Closing Charlotte's door she walked cautiously to the cabin. It was only a small wooden hunting cabin, but it was well maintained and looked as if someone had been there recently. The wood pile on the side of the house had been piled high with freshly cut logs and there were no cobwebs on the doors or windows.

Hannah walked slowly up to the front door and pulling off her driving glove she placed her palm flat against the door. Closing her eyes she reached out trying to get the impression of who had been here last. She flared her senses wide, looking for something familiar, almost desperately wanting anything that might lead her to Dean. As her senses spread over the cabin, she felt a small spike in her consciousness and looked up sharply, her eyes falling on the shed that stood to the back of the cabin.

She walked over to the shed and with infinite care, she held the padlock that chained the door closed in her hand, manipulating the locking mechanism with her mind. This kind of delicate work, often eluded her sporadic talents, but the subtle sense of desperation that she had, helped to focus her mind to do the task.

As the lock dropped open from the chain, Hannah carefully opened up the doors to reveal that car, covered in a tarpaulin parked within. She didn't have to lift up the cover to know that Impala was beneath it, but Hannah couldn't resist touching something that meant so much to Dean. Pulling up the corner of the cover, she ran a loving hand along the polished sides of the Impala's trunk.

"Hey Errol" she crooned softly, calling the car by the nickname that she had given it back in Rhode Island. "Where's your owner huh?"

She knew that the car would not respond to her, but she felt the echoes of Dean's presence within it and it bought her great comfort to know that she was now on the right trail. Dean had been here, he had lovingly stored his prized possession in this little shed and that could only mean one thing…he would be coming back.

But the question of when troubled Hannah. She was working to a deadline now and she couldn't risk not finding Dean in time to connect him with John Winchester. Already she had felt the shift in the spirits energy and she knew without a doubt, that if she didn't find Dean soon, he would never again be able to speak with his father.

Reluctantly, Hannah took her hands from the side of the Impala and let the car cover fall back into place, smoothing it out over the sleek sides of the car. Then she closed the doors and returned that chain and padlock, double checking that she had resecured the shed.

Returning to the house Hannah tried her lock picking trick with the lock on the front door of the cabin, but as was her cross to bear, she could not manipulate the lock with her mind. She walked around the perimeter of the cabin, looking for somewhere that might allow her access to the rooms inside, but whoever owned this cabin, made sure that is was well secured when it wasn't inhabited.

Hannah sighed and sunk down on the door step with her back resting against the heavy wooden door that prevented her entry. It was then that she felt the buzzing of energy from John Winchester. Closing her eyes she focused on his energy, feeding him with energy from deep within her. A single word formed in her mind, like the entity was trying desperately to conserve its energy, but the simple word bought Hannah hope.

'_Key'_

Hannah's eyes sprung open and she looked up at the sun that was climbing higher into the morning sky. On a whim, she folded back the welcome mat, she didn't really expect to see a key under there, but it didn't hurt to check. Standing, she ran her hands along the top of the door frame and looked under the window sill on either side of the door just to check and see if a key had been surreptitiously placed there.

She stepped off the doorstep and looked in the scrub on either side, for anything that might hide a key, then as a final resort, she got down on her hands and knees by the door step and peered into the dark recess that was created under the step.

Even thought the sun was climbing in the sky, the deep shadows under the steps obscured Hannah's vision, but as she was straightening herself up, she caught a clips of something shinny hidden deep under the step. Putting the potential nasty bities that could live in the darkness of the step out of her mind, Hannah reached under the step and her hand encountered something cold and smooth and definitely metallic.

As she pulled it out of the darkness she noticed that is was a small tin, that had originally held Highland Shortbread, but as she shook it, the unmistakable clank of metal on metal filled the air. Dusting the dirt off of the tin, Hannah pried the lid open and inside was a heavy ring with a set of keys on it.

Hannah inspected the keys and selecting a likely candidate she began trying them in the door. Her first try was a no go, but on her second attempt the lock on the door clicked open with a loud sound and she managed to push the heavy wooden door in.

Hannah took a few steps into the cabin. It was small but had every amenity that one required to live. There was one large common space that served as the kitchen, dinning room and lounge room. In the back corner, closest to the external shed was a small bathroom complete with a toilet and shower and on either side of the cabin was a bedroom, with a double bed.

Someone had definitely been here recently; the smell of freshly burnt wood was still lingering around the fire place. Hannah walked slowly over to the fire place and knelt down in front of the grate. The old ashes had been emptied out and a pile of logs and paper had been placed in the fire ready for a match to give it life.

Hannah looked at the paper stuffed into the gaps of the logs along with some soft bark and twigs and sticks. She uncurled the rumpled ball and began scanning what was on it. Most of the paper was from the local newspaper, but as she reached deeper under the logs at the back of the fire place there were a couple of screwed up pieces of lined paper from a legal pad.

On one was jotted the name 'Rimmon' with some doodles and unintelligible scratches next to it, on another was a list of recent dates and incidents listed next to them. Hannah flattened the sheets of paper against her leg looking at the script. She knew instinctively that the writing on the pages was Sam's and not Dean's but as yet it was her best clue as to where the brother's might've been headed.

Hannah folded the pages and slipped them into the pocket of her trousers and then she pushed all of the paper back into the fire place making it look as undisturbed as possible.

Standing up Hannah walked over to the first bed room and standing at the door she examined the tiny room. The bed had been stripped of all linen and a heavy woollen blanket with a pair of greyish pillows had been piled neatly on the end of the mattress. This had been Sam's room. Hannah had no way of knowing just how she knew that, but she knew it the same way she knew how to breathe.

She walked into the room, feeling for a heartbeat like she was invading Sam's privacy, but she quelled that emotion and looked about the room for any thing that the youngest Winchester may have left behind. She opened the tiny closet and realised that Sam had not used it during his stay as a musty smell assaulted her.

Hannah moved out of the first bedroom and crossing the living room she went quickly to the other bedroom on the other side of the house. Dean had been here and recently. This room was identical as the other in layout; the difference for Hannah was the subtle sent that she was somewhat familiar with. The sent of Dean's musk and the tang of his cologne clung to everything in this room, so much so that Hannah picked up the blanket at the foot of the bed and inhaled deeply trying to catch the merest hint of the smell that was both a torture and comfort to her.

Holding the blanket to her chest, Hannah lay on the bed where Dean would have slept and closed her eyes, drawing his scent deep within her longs. Hannah closed her eyes and let her senses flare out wide around the room. Like the Impala, but to a lesser extent, echoes of Dean remained in this room and Hannah let herself become emersed in them hoping they might give her a clear path to Dean.

Hannah focused all her attention to this time and place, narrowing her focus onto this room and the echoes of Dean that it held. She had never experienced anything quite like this, but then again, she had never really tried anything quite like this before so that was unsurprising.

At times she could feel frustration, desperation and fear and others she could feel such longing it made her inside ache. The time Dean had spent here had not be good to him and the very thought made Hannah want to cry. She rolled over on the bed clutching the heavy woollen blanket to her chest struggling to hold on to any one impression more than a few seconds.

As she lay on the bed trying harder and harder to focus on Dean's presence here, she could almost feel him lying in the bed beside her, his loneliness sharp like a razor and his desire hot like fire. He had thought of her while lying in this bed and the knowledge made Hannah's body react of its own accord.

She could almost feel his hands caressing her body, kneading her breast and running his thumbs over her nipples that had hardened with her responding desires. Despite the fact that she knew rationally that Dean was not here, Hannah couldn't prevent the moan the curled up her throat as sensations of a long ago dream swamped through her.

Hannah could feel Dean's lips on her throat and his hands as they sort entry to the slick feminine flesh between her thighs. She could not prevent the growing tension that was building deep within her and when she could feel the length of him pushing into her body, there was nothing that she could do to prevent the release that shook her to her very core. He had dreamed of her this way, taking her with this passion and this intensity and it had been so strong, that even long after he had left this place, his desires remained strong locked up in this room.

As Hannah writhed on the bed, almost unable to comprehend what she was feeling, something in her heart burned hot. Dean had wanted her like this, he had wanted her to be his, if only for a moment and the very idea pleased Hannah in a way that she had never expected.

She sat up on the bed, pulling the pins from hair that had already been mussed up. Her body felt alien to her and yet she could not deny that the hot achy tension that she felt deep within her. Dean had wanted her, and for the first time she admitted to herself that she wanted him to. Not only did she have to find Dean for John Winchester…she had to find him for herself.

With new resolve Hannah got to her feet, refolding the blanket and returning it to the foot of the bed. Once again she pulled the sheets of paper from her pocket and looked at the scrawling notes on them.

It wasn't a lot to go on, but it would have to be enough. With that, Hannah locked up the cabin and returned the tin of keys to their hiding spot under the stairs. She headed off towards the nearest town, wondering what time it was in Boston. To find the brothers now, she would need some help.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3 – Flesh and Blood**

**291 Days**

**Spokane, Washington – 9:44am**

Wendy ran her hail hand under the tap, washing off the scent of dog food and the slobber of dozens of very appreciative animals.

"That certainly goes a lot faster when you have help." she said wistfully, standing back so that the Winchester brothers could access the work basin to wash up.

"Well many hands and all that..." said Sam squirting soap onto his hands and washing them under the water.

"It's actually fun to get hands on." said Dean who was nursing a fat bellied puppy in the crock of his arm, rubbing its downy soft tummy as it dozed. He gave the little dog a final affectionate rub and then put it back in the cage where its brothers and sisters were sleeping peacefully after being fed.

"Don't get much opportunity to work with the animals?" questioned Wendy watching Dean as he went to the wash basin and followed Sam's lead.

"Not these days" he said sounding convincingly disappointed "It's mostly books and theory."

Sam stood back studying Dean. One thing that he had always admired about his brother was his ability to be a complete and total chameleon. For a moment he was tempted to believe that they were research fellows from Washington State University, it would certainly beat the reality of their situation.

"If you guys want to cut through the kennels the loading dock is on the opposite side, not far from the surgery. I'll meet you around there, I just need to sign out a truck."

The brothers watched as Wendy head towards the office section, then they moved in the opposite direction to the loading dock.

"Tell me something" said Sam hurrying up to Dean's shoulder so that he could be heard over the din of barking dogs. "How did you know so much about dog behaviour and hunting mode?"

Dean looked over his shoulder at his brother as he walked, shrugging slightly. "Animal Planet" was all he said and Sam had to smile. Dean was probably not what some would call intellectual, but he picked up information quickly and had enough confidence to apply it when he needed to. That's what made him so successful in the subterfuge component of their job. Sam, on the other hand, had a tendency to over analyse things or worry that his persona might have flaws in it. He hadn't quite developed the poker face that Dean seemed to pull on so easily.

As the boys waited at the loading dock, a large white truck with the cities seal on the doors pulled up and Wendy waved them over through the window. Sam and Dean hurried over to the window and noted that the truck really only had enough room in the cab for two passengers comfortably, with the bench seat it would fit the three of them at a squeeze.

Dean eyed the seat dubiously and then looked at Sam's tall frame. There was no way that Sam was going to fit in the middle position, and the idea of having the gears shift in between his legs held little appeal for Dean so he looked up at Wendy.

"Are you going to be all right driving with that hand of yours?" he asked affecting real concern in his voice "Would you prefer it if Sam or I drove."

Wendy sighed slightly "It should be OK. Unfortunately I have to drive in case we have an accident or something."

Dean smiled at her again "What if I promise not to hit anything?"

Wendy hesitated for a moment and then looking at the brothers she smiled as she relented. "Alright. I guess it makes more sense seeing that I am the smallest one here."

Smiling broadly, Dean hurried over to the driver's side as Wendy slid along the bench seat and Sam climbed in on the passenger's side. Even with this seating, the fit was tight and Wendy had to stretch her legs out next to Sam's so as not to interfere with Dean's gears.

Guiding them out on the leafy streets of Spokane, Wendy directed Dean through the town. It took Dean a little while to get used to not having a rear view mirror, but the further along they went the more relaxed her was getting with the large side mirrors that extended away from the truck. A CB radio crackled with the voices of dispatchers and the static replies of the various animal control officers as they drove and the trio chattered about generic safe topics as they made their way across town.

The suburb of Yardley like the rest of Spokane, was leafy and green filled with gardens and houses that sported plush hedges around their boundary. The streets were fairly quiet, except for the occasional jogger or mother pushing a stroller.

"If you cut down here, this will take you to the train lines" said Wendy pointing down one of the larger arterial roads.

Following her directions Dean turned down the street and almost immediately the houses began to give way to the twisted tangles of major rail lines that fed Spokane and the state of Washington.

"If you pull over up here, we'll have to go in on foot." said Wendy and Dean happily obliged, pulling the truck over and parking it safely.

Sam got out quickly, reaching in and helping Wendy from her position in the middle. The brothers were unsure if it was done out of habit or done very deliberately, but Wendy went to the rear of the truck and produced a long capture pole with a looped cable on the end. She also grabbed another pole that looked to be about two feet long, and slipped it into a ring on her uniform belt.

"I guess I don't need to tell you that if we spot any of these dogs, you'll have to keep your distance and leave it to me." said Wendy eyeing the brothers to assess how compliant that would likely be with that.

"Understood" said Dean and Sam nodded his compliance also, but both knew that they were merely telling Wendy what she wanted to hear. If push came to shove and the situation got bad, the brother's would do what they had to.

Dean and Sam fell into step with Wendy as she walked down the street. At the end of the street the train lines cut a path through the strange jumble of houses and wooded areas.

"We first saw the pack at the end in of the street and when we got close to them, they headed down to the train lines." she said pointing down an embankment

Sam studied the tall wire fencing that was near the train lines in deference to the residents who must live close by.

"How did they make it through the fence line?" he questioned.

"There are gaps and holes right along this area, come on, I'll show you." said Wendy and with cautious steps she made her way down the embankment towards the fence line bellow, the brothers following a few paces behind.

The had only travelled about 20 feet, when Wendy pointed out a large hole in the wire fence, that looked like it had been cut and rolled back to allow access.

"Watch yourself" she cautioned as she ducked in through the small hole "some of those wire ends can be really sharp."

Sam followed through behind her and then Dean came, taking care not to allow any of his clothes or flesh to touch the sharp wicked bare wires.

"We followed the pack along the lines for a while until the junction which is a few blocks that way." Wendy said pointing off in the distance.

The trio walked at an easy pace, swinging their eyes about the streets and bush lands around them looking for any signs of the pack, but all appeared as it should in the quiet suburban neighbourhood.

Dean studied the rail lines and watched as three different lines all converged with mechanical efficiency in one spot. He noticed that one of the lines that branched away from the intersection, lead towards a groups of shed and workshops that looked like a small maintenance village.

"What is this junction?" asked Dean again looking at the converging track works.

"This is where the Amtrack lines meet up with the local network and everything goes to the 1st Avenue station." explained Wendy.

"Is that the station up there." said Sam pointing at the clock tower that he could just see beyond the tree line.

Wendy paused looking quizzically for a moment at the two brother's "No! That's the WSU campus."

Sam immediately realised his mistake and was rapidly searching his mind for a reasonable explanation when he heard Dean's voice break through his panic.

"So that's where the Spokane campus is." Dean's voice was smooth and his tone sincere. "Not as nice as our campus, but still got a pretty good view."

Sam watched as the confused look dropped from Wendy's face and he said a little prayer to whoever was listening that Dean was so quick on his feet.

As they were looking around, they heard the warning bellow of an approaching train. And they made their way off the tracks to allow the train enough room to pass them. Dean had intended to ask Wendy some more questions, but the noise of the train made it all but impossible to hear anything let alone carry on a conversation. So Dean just stood watching as the train blotted out his view of the tracks, the workshops and the bushland beyond.

As the trio waited for the train to pass, they exchanged polite smiles. As the train passed, their view of the surrounding track yards and workshops was restored, although this time, their view was not empty. As the train disappeared like a theatrical curtain, on the other side, a pack of 10 or so large dogs stood with their hackles raised and the long wicked teeth bared.

At the sight of them, Dean froze, putting a restraining hand on Wendy, whose eyes were following the back of the train. When she turned to look, her eyes falling on the dogs now only a few feet away from them on the other side of the tracks, she froze dead on the spot, not even daring to breath.

Sam too, had frozen and was now watching the mismatched pack of animals with a nervous eye.

"Where the hell did they come from?" whispered Wendy, the merest hint of panic filling her voice.

"I'd say they've been stalking us for a while." said Dean, the hunter in him switching on like a high beam spotlight. "They used the train as cover."

Dean looked around assessing their situations. The pack had been smart, waiting until the trio had no where to go. The tall wire fence was at their back and if they tried to break for it in either direction, the dogs would be on them in moments.

At the head of the pack a large charcoal mottled mastiff curled his lips back further and took a menacing step closer, to where the trio stood clinging to each other. Clearly the massive animal was the alpha. It was a huge dog that's head came up to Dean's waist and it had a massive muscled chest and legs on it. Despite all of this, the most frightening thing about this animal was its massive jaws. There was no doubt that if they latched on to you, there was enough force in them to shatter the bone underneath.

With infinitely slow movement, Dean pulled the handgun out of his pants and flicked the safety off, but every time he went to raise the gun the dogs would take a few steps in his direction, the jaws salivating and the teeth bared.

"I wouldn't do that." said Wendy muttering through her teeth at Dean "That seems to be making them mad."

Tending to agree with the animal control officer, Dean hid the site of the gun away behind his back and the progress of the dogs halted.

"Sam, I could take a few of them down before they attacked, but I wouldn't get all of them." said Dean looking meaningfully at his brother " And I have a suspicion that the hot stick that Wendy has on her belt wont be too much of a deterrent. I've seen the Doc work with a dog mind before, is there anything that you can do?"

"I'll try" said Sam realising that they were very rapidly running out of options.

Normally Sam would have closed his eyes and reached out to the animals, but he was unwilling to let them out of his sight, so he fixed his gaze on the alpha male, and reached out to it with his senses.

As he touched the animals mind, everything within it was foreign to him. He recognised the feelings of aggression and the blinding anger, but it was like it was an impression of these emotions. There wasn't any logic or context to these feelings, there was just pure feeling. Sam had no idea what to do with that knowledge, but he kept studying the thought patterns of the animal looking for something anything that he might use to be able to help them out of this situation.

For the briefest of moments he got the distinctive feeling of feedback, sort of the psychic equivalent of a microphone being taken too close to a speaker and then there was this sort of white haze in his connection. He had lost everything from the animals as if its mind had been deliberately blanked. The loss of contact unnerved him and instinct churned in his gut.

"Run" he yelled a split second before the pack of dogs broke at them like a snarling snapping wave.

Dean did and abrupt about face, grabbing Wendy by the arm and propelling her to the chain link fence. Sam, with his long legged strides was right behind them and with a strength born of desperation; the brother's propelled Wendy half way up the fence, her capture pole falling uselessly to the ground bellow.

She grabbed on with one hand, but her injured hand slipped on the links and she awkwardly began slipping backwards. Without thought, Sam placed a large hand on her ass and gave a mighty shove, hopping that the momentum would help her climb.

With the added boost, the panicking woman was able to hook her arm over the top of the fence, ignoring the barbs that bit into her flesh. She scrabbled, as did the brothers beside her to climb the fence and throwing her leg over, she pulled the rest of herself over, falling heavily to the ground on the other side.

Dean was right behind her, but Sam was longer and had started his climb a little later. He was still in striking range when the mastiff attacked. It launched itself off the ground snapping with is massive jaws at the back of Sam's leg. Fortune seemed to be smiling on the youngest Winchester because the dog's sharp teeth all but glanced off his flesh instead tangling them selves in the denim of his jeans.

The mastiff hung on for grim life, preventing Sam from being able to climb further, the sound of the denim shredding as the dog's teeth cut through it like paper. A second animal, leapt up at Sam's other leg, this time, its long canine teeth sunk into his calf muscle.

As Dean dropped awkwardly, almost on top of Wendy he pulled out his gun and fired at the dog that had attached itself to the back of his brother's leg. The was a high pitched yelp and the animal fell to the ground, limping on three legs as it beat a hasty retreat. Dean went to fire a second time, but his angle on the ground and Sam's flailing limbs meant that he risked shooting his brother, so instead he dropped the gun and reached up to help he brother who was madly scrabbling over the top of the fence.

With Wendy helping at his shoulder, under Sam's combined weight, the three of them fell to the earth in a sprawl of arms and legs. From his vantage point under his brother Dean watched as the pack of dogs, trotted away, crossing the rail tracks and heading towards the work sheds. If he had been able to get to his gun he probably would have taken a few more shots, but at this very second he was just glad that everyone had gotten out of that little situation relatively unscathed.

The three lay for a long moment, each of them breathing hard as they gingerly untangled there cut and aching limbs.

"I've got to call this in" said Wendy nursing her bandaged hand gingerly to her chest. "Those dogs are a complete menace. I've never seen anything like this."

"Actually" said Dean, looking at where the barbed wire had bitten into his jacket and jeans. "I think it is probably best if you let me and Sam handle this."

"Excuse me" said Wendy agitatedly "But this is a city problem, and the city has to deal with this."

"Wendy" said Sam, hissing her name through his teeth as he inspected the wounds on the back of his calf. "Trust me when I say the city isn't equipped to deal with this."

"What do you mean?" Wendy said, her anger and shock making her voice slightly shrill.

"Come on" said Dean "Let's go get ourselves cleaned up and we'll explain."

With that he held his hand to her to assist her to her feet and together they helped Sam stand. His brother was limping fairly pronouncedly, so Dean pulled one of Sam's arms across his shoulders and was slightly surprised when Wendy did the same on the other side and together the limped off down the street making their way back to where they had left the truck.

"Dean" said Sam as they went "If I ever doubt you again, I give you permission to slap me upside the head."

Dean gave is brother a smile. "Can I have that in writing?"

**

* * *

291 Days**

**Hot Springs, South Dakota – 9:22am**

As surreptitiously as she could, Hannah eased herself out from behind the computer that was in front of her, and looking over her shoulder to confirm that she was not seen, she walked away from the terminals that were lining the wall of the Hot Springs Public Library.

Her ongoing battle with technology had cost the Public Library two computers and not wanting to make a third computer completely useless, Hannah simply gave up and moved away from the machines all together. It was a testament to how perturbed she was, that she couldn't even control her gifts for long enough to surf the net for a moment.

She decided that she would have to take a different tact. Checking her watch and calculating the time difference, Hannah dialled Patrick Shaughnessy's number and waited for a reply.

"Shaughnessy" a voice said blearily and Hannah knew immediately that Patrick had been sound asleep. She checked her watch again just to make certain she hadn't miscalculated – but it would have been about 8:30 am in Boston, so Hannah was somewhat surprised.

"Patrick, its Hannah. I hope I didn't wake you."

"No" said the voice again "I was up."

Hannah ignored the bald face lie and smiled to herself.

"I hope you're keeping well?" she finally asked, now feeling really awkward for waking him up.

"Yeah" he said breathing out hard "I'm not bad. I've shifted to nights so I could leave my days free to help Mario and Joel."

"Really?" said Hannah somewhat surprised "What helping them find Emily?"

Hannah felt a pang of guilt as she bought up the young woman's name. Emily had been one of the possession victims from Asbeel's attack on Hannah's cottage, and unlike the others who had found strength in there ordeal, Emily had been irrevocably traumatised, disappearing off the radar.

"Yeah." he said rather doggedly "We got a tip that she had been seen in Indiana, but by the time Mario and Joel got there, the trail was cold. I mean they're both really great guys, with the best of intentions, but they're not professional investigators, so I decided that I would help them as much as I could from here."

"Well let me know if there is ever anything that I can do." said Hannah, feeling slightly guilty that she was not in a position to do more. She had barely known Emily, but she certainly felt a lot of empathy for the young woman.

"Thanks." said Patrick "How did you go with the Coombs case?"

At the mention of Amelia Coombs, Hannah's mind turned back to the horrid day not so long ago where she had broken the news to Amelia's parents just how their little girl had died.

"I wouldn't want to do that in a hurry anytime soon." confessed Hannah remembering how Ben Coombs had tossed her physically out into the street. "I don't know how you police officers do it."

"It never gets easier." replied Patrick reflectively and there was a long pause in the conversation as both considered this.

"Now" said Patrick finally "I'm sure you didn't call to just shoot the breeze. What can I do for you?"

Hannah winced, feeling again like such a heel to be asking for his assistance yet again.

"Look to cut a long story short, I'm trying to find Sam and Dean, but I'm having a bit a trouble tracking them down."

"I assume you tried to call?" said Patrick, and Hannah swallowed hard, not wanting to get into the details with Patrick if she could avoid it.

"Yeah I did, but I can't raise either one of them." said Hannah "The thing is Pat, at the moment they don't want to be found."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised by that. I saw an all points bulletin come in from the FBI. They sure as hell must have pissed off someone at the Bureau." replied Patrick, but Hannah could tell from his tone, that he didn't believe that they were guilty of the crimes they had been accused of. Despite that, Hannah felt compelled to defend them.

"They're innocent you know." she said emphatically.

"Of course they are." replied Patrick to Hannah's great relief "After what I've experienced and after what they did for me, I knew the moment I saw it that there must be some kind of mistake."

"Anyway" continued Hannah, feeling the tension starting to leave her shoulders. "I managed to track them to a cabin in South Dakota, but from there I only have a couple of clues to go from and I was hoping that you could help me out with them."

Hannah could hear a bit of scrabbling through the phone and surmised that Pat must be grabbing a pen and paper.

"Shaughnessy professional investigation services at your service. Hit me with what you got."

Hannah had to smile at Pat's curling Boston accent. In some ways it made him sound very hard, and yet when he spoke kindly or joked around it just seemed to add emphasis to those sentiments.

"Thanks Pat" said Hannah, sincerely grateful for this man's help "I found two bits of paper, one of them had the name of a Demon on it, which I am going to look up now, the other had a listing of events and dates on it. I tried looking them up myself, but as it is I'm going to have to leave the Hot Springs Public Library a rather healthy donation just to make up for the two computers that I have already fried."

"Alright" said Pat and Hannah could here the smile in his voice "Read out the list of events for me and I'll see about cross referencing them."

Hannah read down the list of half a dozen events and dates and waited patiently as Pat systematically read them back to her.

"You got any feeling about what they mean?" he finally asked as he looked at the list before him looking for any kind of connection.

"To be honest I think the boys were looking for this demon Rimmon and they were looking up demon sign to try and pinpoint its location."

"By demon sign?" queried Pat "Are you talking about events that may indicate the presence of a demon?"

"That's exactly what I'm referring to. Their father taught them how to find the paranormal in looking at patterns of events and seemingly isolated incidents that actually formed a much greater pattern."

"Wow" remarked Pat "Maybe Shaughnessy professional investigation services could do with a few lesson on the Winchester method. I tell you what, I'll go see what I can dig up and then I'll get back to you as soon as I have something."

"Thanks Pat. Once again I really appreciate your help." said Hannah fervently.

"Forget about it." He replied dismissively "Us guys got to stick together…right? I'll call you soon."

With that the line went dead and Hannah switched of her phone and slipped it back in her pocket. Looking at her watch, she noticed that it was almost ten and she still hadn't had breakfast. She decided that she would refuel her engine and then come back and get stuck into the research about Rimmon. If indeed the boys were tracking this demon down, it could very well be the danger of which John Winchester spoke.

Hannah slung her purse over her shoulder and trotted out of the stacks of the library. She walked outside and again she was struck by just how beautiful the town of Hot Springs really was. It had this strange quality of colonial buildings mixed with heavy wooded frontier style buildings and all the main streets conformed to this particular blending of styles.

As she walked down the street hoping to find a diner, she heard a voice calling to her from the other side. Looking up curiously, Hannah made sure that the road was clear before she trotted over the street to where a tall dark haired man was waving to her frantically.

"Lady" he called, his accent lilting in favour of elongating each of the consonants "Lady, my grandfather wants to speak with you."

As Hannah got close, she could see that the mans face was well tanned, with the hook nosed raptor features of the native Americans who could be found in the Black Hills. He was probably in his mid forties and carried a solid thick frame, but the way he walked reminded Hannah of moving water, for it was light and fluid, not really impacting anything that it passed.

She studied the man who was smiling had her, his wide grin, making the crinkles deepen at the side of his eyes.

"I didn't think you would cross the street?" said the man still smiling at her, as if he saw some secret in her that she didn't yet know.

"Well you were calling me over weren't you?" asked Hannah somewhat confused.

"Ahhhh"said the man again with a smile, tilting his head slightly as if he were listening intently to something "Foreigner. That is why you have not fear."

"I'm sorry, but I'm dreadfully confused." confessed Hannah, yet despite her confusion she felt incredibly safe in the presence of this man, even if she didn't understand exactly what he was smiling at.

"Most of the locals are afraid of my Grandfather's medicine, so if we call to them, usually they will go running the other way." The man explained, taking Hannah gently by the elbow and leading her into the shade of an awning outside the front of a general store.

On a rustic carved bench set by the door of the general store, a wizened old Indian sat his shoulders curling slightly under the weight of his age. He wore a weathered black hat over his long grey hair and Hannah couldn't be sure, but she thought the feathers poking out from the hat band were eagle feathers.

There was a strong family resemblance between the old man and the younger man, but where the old man's skin was a rich caramel colour, his grandson's was paler, a testament to the mixing of his Indian heritage with at least one white parent.

The keen eyed old man, studied Hannah for a long moment, his dark eyes never leaving her. It got to the point where Hannah found herself fidgeting she was so perturbed by the intensity of the man's gaze. Now she understood why the locals hurried off in the opposite direction.

The old man spoke, his words almost mumbled and to Hannah they were unintelligible, but his grandson just smiled and nodded.

"Grandfather says that you should look at him and see him, so that you will know that the words that he speaks are truth."

Hannah looked at the younger Indian, feeling somewhat confused, but then she felt a small flash at the peripheries of her senses and realised what the old man meant. Closing her eyes Hannah turned her focus on the old man, narrowing down her perception until she could feel nothing but his energy. In her mind she could see him sitting before her, his spirit form was that of a young man surrounded in white gold light. His form quickly changed and she saw a bear and a crow and and eagle and knew them all to be part of the one man.

Hannah had to work hard not to let her jaw drop. She had never in her whole existence experience anything quite like this. As an anthropologist, she knew and had studied the beliefs of the Native Americans along with many other cultures, but until now, she had never fully appreciated the potency of their inner spiritual life and the power of their magic.

Slowly she opened her eyes and a smile spread across her face as she was once again looking at the wizened shell of the medicine man who sat before her. His grandson smiled again as if they were sharing some inner joke and whispered in her ear.

"So few people see him anymore, that when they do he likes to show off a little."

Hannah smiled, repressing a laugh as she let the younger Indian guide her down onto the bench next to his grandfather. The old medicine man didn't look at her again, instead his eyes were fixed out in the middle of the street, but his focus was somewhere far away. When he began to speak, it startled Hannah slightly, but his voice was earthy and rugged with age. On her other side, his grandson translated.

"When my grandfather was just a boy in his village, the medicine man told him a tale of Howahkan who was a great medicine man to his people long before the white man came to these lands. Howahkan, travelled to many tribes, speaking with the elders and gaining their knowledge. He learnt all of their medicine and became strong with it. The crafty Crow began to worry that Howahkan had indeed become smarter than he so he flew down to Howahkan as he slept and whispered in his ear, that he would never be a great medicine man until he capture the magic of the rattlesnake."

Hannah barely breathed as the old man told his story, there was something almost musical about the old man's words echoed in English by his grandson.

"When Howahkan awoke, he was determined to have the medicine of the rattlesnake, so for many days and nights he walked through the hills turning over stones to find a rattlesnake who he could take this magic from. When he was tired and sick from hunger he finally found a snake and with the last of his energy he grabbed it with both hands and he put it in a deerskin bag. When he returned to the village he put the deerskin bag into a box and then he returned to seeing to his village, happy in the knowledge that there was now no medicine that he did not have."

The young Indian paused for a moment as he listened to the words of his grandfather, then he began to speak again.

"For many years Howahkan worked his medicine, and others would travel all the way to his village to ask him to visit their lands and bless their lands and their animals with his medicine. Happy to share his knowledge Howahkan would journey to these villages and work his medicine for all. It was on one of these trips, that Crow convinced Coyote to steel the box that contained Howahkan Rattlesnake medicine in it. While Howahkan slept, Coyote crept into his camp and took the box burying it on the prairie where no one would find it.

When Howahkan woke and discovered that it was gone, his sadness knew no end and he could no longer work his medicine. When a great sickness spread across the land killing all of the hunters and the animals, the village elders begged Howahkan to work his medicine, but he told them he could not, and many in the village died from hunger.

Then the winter came and the snow fell thick on the ground, so none of the animals could eat and more of the people of the village died. Again the elders asked for the aid of Howahkan, but he refused their pleas. The spring would not come and those who remained begged Howahkan to work his medicine and he said without his rattlesnake magic, that he could not and the rest of the village died. When spring finally came, Howahkan was the only man left in the village and by now he was an old man, he could no longer hunt and he was sick with hunger. As he lay dying, Crow came back to laugh at Howahkan for his foolishness."

Hannah waited for either one to continue, but both sat in silence. She went through the details of the story in her mind, but to her it seemed unfished and she looked for one to the other in her confusion.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand" Hannah said, trying to hide her desperation from her voice "How does the story end?"

Without waiting for his grandson to translate Hannah's question, the old man began to speak again. Hannah waited patiently for him to finish and then turned her eyes on the grandson who still smiled at her.

"The story ends with Howahkan dying while Crow laughed at him." said the younger Indian with a knowing smile.

Hannah was confused and she was starting to find the smile plastered on the grandsons face irritating. Again she ran through the details of the story in her mind, but as far as she could see there were several morals to this particular tale and none of them seemed to pertain to her situation.

"I don't understand, what does it mean?" she said looking again at the old man, knowing full well that he understood every word that she spoke.

The old man smiled at her and patted her hand where it lay on her leg as he spoke.

"My grandfather is sorry that he can not finish this lesson now, but he says you are not ready for it yet." translated the younger Indian.

Hannah looked at the old man determined to argue that with him, but the words would not come out of her mouth. Instead she was filled with an instinct that something important had been exchanged here, so she closed her mouth and smiled at the old man in spite of the confusion tumbling around in his brain.

"Thank you." said Hannah, hoping that her voice sounded more gracious than she actually felt "I will think on what you've told me."

Remembering her studies, Hannah recalled that it was customary to give a gift to a medicine man. I couldn't be a trinket or a trifle, it had to be something of value to the recipient to honour the medicine mans time and powers. Without thought Hannah reached around to the chain at her throat and unclasped the catch. On the long gold chain was a pendant of a Tibetan prayer written on a gold disc. She had bought the pendant when she had first arrived in the United States and it held more sentimental value for her than any real monetary value.

Hannah took hold of the old mans hand and opening his fingers; she let the pendant and chain pool in the centre of his palm.

"I was told that this would protect the wearer. I hope that it serves you as well as it has me."

The old man looked at Hannah for a moment, and she could see both the shock and the grudging respect that he had in his eyes. He looked sharply at his grandson and muttered a few words to him.

"My grandfather senses that there is strong medicine in this necklace and he would not like to take it from you if it would leave you unprotected. Even now, he says that a restless spirits walks in your shadow."

Hannah looked at the old man again and smiled at his concerned expression.

"I know all too well about the restless spirit, he is now almost like a friend of mine. And as for leaving myself without protection, well you don't need to worry about that."

With that Hannah opened the cuff button of her blouse and showed the old man the gold Egyptian bracelet that she wore underneath. It had been a gift from Michael on her 21st birthday and it was supposed to be lucky and bring prosperity to the wearer.

Hannah had discovered later that the hieroglyphs imprinted on it, were in fact a spell from the Book of the Dead, protecting the soul of the wearer from monsters and darkness.

With reverent fingers that old man ran his fingertips over the soft bevelled design, as he did so a smile came to his age hardened face, and the lines by his eyes and by the corners of his mouth deepened.

"More strong medicine." said the old man in heavily accented English "Just like Howahkan. Collecting the medicine of many tribes."

With his words, Hannah felt like the first pieces of this puzzle that he had given her, where falling into place and her smile broadened. Then she watched as with deliberated hands, he pulled down the cuff or her blouse to hide the bracelet beneath it. He bowed his head respectfully to her, and with a gesture that she recognised only from the movies, indicated that there interaction here was done.

Hannah turned to look at the younger Indian, who was still smiling his secret smile. She wondered if he shared his Grandfathers abilities and if so, what he must be seeing during this strange exchange to make him smile so.

"Thank you." she said as she rose to her feet. He rose also extending his hand congenially.

"If you are looking for the best place in town to eat, go another block down that way and turn right" he said pointing down the street "Near the corner there is a restaurant called Dale's. Tell them Willie sent you and they'll be good to you."

Dale shook the man's hand and then headed off in the direction that he indicated. As she put some distance between them, she heard the younger Indian calling after her.

"Go easy on her John."

Smiling she turned and waved and was glad to see that both men waved back. It had been a very strange encounter all in all, but Hannah felt the importance of it right to her very core, and when she reached the restaurant, she would be sure to write it all down to the best of her memory.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Flesh and Blood**

**291 Days**

**Spokane, Washington – 11.07am**

Wendy pushed awkwardly on her apartment door and once it opened she lead the brothers into her small apartment, tossing her keys into the dish that sat on a small table by the door.

"Explain to me again why we couldn't do this down at the shelter, or better yet why we shouldn't be at the emergency room."

Wendy was clearly agitated and Sam could certainly sympathise, not only had she just been chased down by a pack of vicious dogs, but her previous injury had begun to bleed again and the blood had already seeped through the heavy bandages that dressed the wound.

"Sit down." said Sam guiding her gently to the kitchen table. "Let me take a look at that for you."

Wendy scowled at him, but she allowed him to sit her down none the less.

"You got a medical kit or something around here." asked Dean, already opening up cupboards in the kitchen.

Wendy turned her eyes on him with continued irritation "Yeah" she said "Bathroom, under the sink."

When Dean disappeared she turned back to Sam who was already placing her arm gently on the table in front of him.

"You know you probably need to see a doctor about that bite on your leg." She said stiffly as Sam inspected her bandage.

"Dean will look after it" replied Sam absently

"Alright then" said Wendy sounding largely unimpressed "This explanation better be good."

Dean reappeared with a small green box, marked by white cross and a couple of bottles and a small pair of scissors.

"Went through the draws didn't you?" said Wendy looking at the array of things that he spread out across the table.

Dean smiled roguishly "Yeah. Sorry about that." His eyes caught his brother's attention "You want to see to that first and then I'll look at the leg?"

Sam nodded slightly towards Wendy his attention still on getting the dressing off her injured hand.

"Ok" Sam began "You know how we said that we were research fellows from WSU, well that wasn't exactly the truth."

"Not even close." added Dean, as Wendy balked at the both of them.

Sam shot a glare at his brother indicating that he wasn't exactly helping with the situation.

"No" continued Sam "Dean and I are actually hunters."

"What you guys don't get enough jollies from shooting down elk and bears that you have to come into the city and shoot big dogs?"

Wendy's tone was caustic, and when Sam finally managed to pull the dressing from her arm, she hissed in pain, starring daggers in his direction.

"Where not that sort of hunter." said Dean looking over Sam's should at Wendy's old wound "Damn that must have hurt like a bitch."

"Still does" Wendy managed to growl between clenched teeth.

Sam inspected the wounds to her arm and hand. Her skin was white and slightly wrinkled from being under the bandage. The flesh had been badly torn and whoever had seen to her had spent a long time suturing up the long ragged gashes on her hand an arm. The flesh was angry and red around the suturing, but despite the recent pressure on them, the sutures seemed to have held fairly well.

Sam did a quick mental count.

"What was it "he asked still inspecting the wound "About thirty stiches?"

"Thirty seven actually" Wendy hissed as Sam probed the wounds with gentle fingers.

"Well they look pretty well intact, I think the pressure just made them weep where the injuries are a little deeper. Let me just clean it up and redress it and you should be fine."

Wendy watched Sam with narrowed eyes as he opened up the medical kit and looked through it at what he had to work with.

"Alright, if you're not the Elmer Fudd kind or hunter, then what exactly are you?"

Dean watched Wendy impressed at her composure as Sam dabbed at her sutures with antiseptic. She winced and her face showed her pain, but not once did she cry out or complain.

"Well" began Sam "You may find this a little hard to believe but ghosts and demons and any number of supernatural things are real."

"And we hunt those." finished Dean "Well the bad ones at least." He qualified suddenly thinking that both Sam and the Doc probably fell into the category of supernatural things now.

"You're Ghost Hunters?" Wendy asked incredulously

"Amongst other things." confirmed Sam, hardly surprised that Wendy was so reticent to believing them.

Before Sam realised it, Wendy had picked up the nail scissors from the table in her good hand and begun waving them around wildly.

"Get the hell out of my house" she screamed brandishing the stumpy scissors first at Sam then towards where Dean stood. "Before I call the cops."

Sam got up of the chair away from the terrified woman brandishing scissors. Not that he really thought he was at all in danger from her weapon, but more because he was startled by her response. He caught Dean's eyes and saw in them not only a hint of amusement but also a healthy amount of admiration.

"Whoa Whoa Whoa." said Dean trying to calm the situation "Wait, just listen. We're not here to hurt you."

"No, but you're clearly out of your minds" Wendy hissed, nursing her injured hand close to her chest as she brandished her three inch pair of scissors in her left hand.

"Wendy" beseeched Sam "We're telling you the truth I swear."

"I'm sorry but after you've already lied to me, how am I supposed to believe anything you say?"

Again Sam looked to Dean. The woman had a point; their introductions didn't exactly spark a huge amount of trust.

"Ok that's true." replied Dean "But think about those dogs Wendy…you got to admit their behaviours defies everything normal or natural."

Watching her, Sam saw in her eyes the first glimmer of doubt. She truly did believe that the dogs' behaviour was out of the ordinary, but even still she wasn't buying their story.

"What if I could prove it to you Wendy?" said Sam, taking a subtle step forward. "What if I could show you something that may make you change your mind?"

There was a moment where indecision crossed Wendy's face. "Like what?"

Sam smiled slightly.

"How about this?" with those words he reached out with his senses and had a firm image of everything in the room with his mind. When he opened his eyes again, he vaguely heard Wendy's sharp intake of breath, so he figured his eyes must have changed colour.

With little more than a thought he picked up all of the medical paraphernalia off the table, he selected various objects around Wendy's tiny apartment and levitated them off of where they were sitting and allowed them to stay suspended in the air.

Wendy gasped, turning around in a circle as she watched half of the contents of her apartment levitating. "Holy Shit" she muttered looking with a combination of fear and fascination.

"Ok Sam" said Dean watching Wendy carefully "That's probably enough showboating."

As the contents of Wendy's apartment found their resting places once again, Wendy sat down on the kitchen chair in shock, letting the scissors fall harmlessly from her hand.

"What are you?" Wendy said looking at Sam with fear.

"Just a man." replied Sam, sitting down in the chair opposite her, trying to make himself appear less threatening.

"But how…." The question was left unfinished as Wendy looked around her apartment one more time.

"I had something of a close encounter with a demon. It made me different." said Sam gently, and at his words, Dean couldn't help but be reminded of the first time that they had met the Doc. That is exactly how she had put it too and idly Dean wondered if Sam had done that consciously of unconsciously.

"A demon like the 'Devil'?" Wendy asked almost tripping over the words as they came past her lips.

"Sort of" replied Sam with a gentle smile. "Do you want me to dress that for you now?"

Wendy handed over her arm almost without thought as she scrubbed her good hand over her face in disbelief.

"You know what this explains a lot to me" she babbled, her eyes seeming unfocused as the words tumbled out of her mouth. "When I was six I went to spend the summer with my Grandmother and I have this memory that every night my Grandfather would tuck me in, only he couldn't of because he died when I was five. I always thought I'd imagined that but I didn't did I? That was real!"

"Possibly" said Dean squatting down on his haunches. "I can't confirm that was for real, but the dogs they are definitely for real."

Wendy's brow furrowed at Dean's words "What are they then, some sort of hell hound or something?"

Dean sighed deeply "To be honest we don't really know. We were just given a tip that some demons were making there way to town, trying to set up a stronghold here, but the only demon sign that we could find was the dog attacks."

"And I think we can all agree that there is something not right there." said Sam, as he wound a bandage over Wendy's wounded hand.

"Wow" said Wendy, again scrubbing at her face with her left hand "Sorry, I feel like I've just fallen into and episode of the Twilight Zone or something."

"Its alright." said Sam gently "Most people have a pretty hard time dealing with the realities of it."

Wendy looked between the brothers and both could see the weight her new found knowledge had put on her shoulders.

"You both sound so blasé about all of this." Wendy was merely stating a point, but there was a hint of accusation to it.

"We've been dealing with this for a long time now." said Dean looking at her sympathetically.

"Since we were kids." chimed in Sam as he finished dressing her arm.

"Since your were kids! What the hell happen? You have an Exorcist moment of something?" Again Wendy's voice rose in agitation.

"Actually, our Mom was killed by a demon, I was almost five and Sam was just a baby." replied Dean. He tried to say it as a matter of fact, but the hitch in his voice betrayed the emotions that he still felt about that.

"Oh God" said Wendy instantly repentant "I'm so sorry."

"Say" said Dean, clearly uncomfortable where the conversation had turned. "Don't suppose you got any bear, I'd kill for a drink."

"No beers I'm afraid" replied Wendy "But there are sodas in the fridge, you're more than welcome to one of those."

"Thanks" said Dean, pushing himself up from his haunches. "Sam you want?"

Sam watched as his brother moved to the fridge. "No thanks. I'm good."

"Wendy?" asked Dean, holding up the can of Soda and trying to entice her with his best 'Price is Right' modelling.

"Thanks" she said giving him a half hearted smile. She looked at Sam now who was securing her dressing in place. "I'm not sure I know what to say, or what to ask?"

He looked up into her eyes smiling warmly "It's alright, why don't you give it a minute to sink in and then let rip, I think we probably owe you an explanation."

Dean put the Soda in front of her and then pulled Sam out of his seat and hitched his injured leg up on it, like a fairer changing a horses shoe.

Dean dropped to his knees and retrieved the scissors from the floor by Wendy's chair and then without ceremony he cut up the leg of Sam's jeans.

"Oh damn it Dean" said Sam looking over his shoulder at what his brother was doing "These are my favourite jeans."

Dean smiled ruefully up at his brother "Well now that can be your favourite jeans with the special aerated leg."

The older Winchester examined the bite on his brother's leg, poking at it with none too gentle fingers.

"She mostly got the jeans, you were actually pretty lucky." He commented absently.

"I got bit by a demonic do Dean, Excuse me if I don't feel very lucky." said Sam slightly petulantly.

"He's a big pussy." Dean said in a stage whisper to Wendy, invoking almost a smile from the girl who had sunken deep within her own thoughts.

"Do the police know?" Wendy finally said as Dean grabbed the antiseptic gel and a cotton swab.

"About what?" asked Dean as he cleaned up the puncture sites on Sam's leg.

Wendy almost laughed, but couldn't quite make the gesture "You know….about the ghosts and demons and stuff."

"No" said Sam solemnly "They either don't believe or don't want to know."

"And even if they did." continued Dean "They wouldn't know how to fight them."

"But surely someone must know. Someone from the government I mean." Wendy said again, her voice rising in agitation.

"Well if they do" replied Dean "We haven't met them yet."

"Wow" said Wendy in disbelief "This is just way too much."

"I know." consoled Sam "We've just sort of dumped this on you, but the fact of the matter is, I think we need your help."

"My help" gasped Wendy "What can I do to help?"

Dean smile, and with a cotton swab in one hand and the antiseptic in the other, he spread his arms wide. "Believe it or not, you're doing it."

"You said you weren't quite sure what was up with those dogs?" Wendy asked her face becoming grave and thoughtful.

"In our experience demon's will tend to hide out in people. Gives them corporeal form, shields them from hunters like us and if they come across someone who knows what they're doing, it gives them an anchor to hold on to this plain of existence."

At Sam's explanation, Dean could see the wheels of thought ticking over in Wendy's mind.

"But no dogs?" she asked.

"Well to be honest, we're not too sure." confessed Sam "Looking into the dog attacks was a bit of a long shot for us."

"You see." continued Dean picking up a square dressing pad and laying it along Sam's calf "Usually a demon's presence will have an affect on certain things. It can affect weather, live stock births, violent crimes all sorts of things. Their little things on their own and wouldn't necessarily ring any alarm bells, bit put them together…"

"…and you have a demon calling card." finished Wendy for him.

"You see a demon can't not be what it is. Its nature is inherently destructive and it affects everything around it in that way." explained Dean and Sam felt those words all the way to his bones.

"So what know?" questioned Wendy looking between the brothers.

Dean looked up at Sam as he finished winding a bandage over the dressing patch. "Now" he said watching his brother closely "We research"

Wendy sighed "And what am I supposed to do?"

Sam and Dean exchanged looks, as Sam stood up, testing the dressing on his leg

"Well for starters, you need to make sure your people stay away from that pack." said Dean "We got lucky today, they could have killed us, all of us."

"Ok" said Wendy contemplating his words.

"You also know this town better than we do, we could use your help once we get some more information." said Sam

"Alright" said Wendy, looking at the brothers with a renewed sense of purpose.

Again Dean was impressed. In the last half hour they had pretty much turned this woman's world on its head, and yet here she was, prepared to do something to help them. She was certainly made of sterner stuff than most.

"First off, let's get that truck back to the shelter." suggested Dean "You think you could get the rest of the day off?"

Wendy looked at him, her lips set in a grim line of resolve. "I'll just tell them my hand hurts…which wouldn't exactly be a lie. That should give me a few days to play with."

With it all decided, the trio again piled into the Animal Control truck, with Dean behind the wheel. As they drove back to the shelter, he sincerely wished he could put this by the Doc.

She would know what to make of this, but thinking of her caused the familiar ache in his chest, a kind of dull pain that he was strangely taking comfort in. He wondered what she was doing, where she was, if perhaps she was thinking about him.

Never before in his life had he indulged in these kinds of thoughts. Perhaps he was getting soft in his old age.

* * *

**291 Days**

**Hot Springs, South Dakota – 3:44pm**

With more force than she intended Hannah slammed the book she was reading in frustration. She had been trying to research up on Rimmon, but the theology books in the small municipal library were sadly lacking in that front and she dearly wished to be home looking through her own extensive collection.

She had been at it for hours with little to no improvement of her knowledge than when she had started. She could feel the spirit of John Winchester buzzing in frustration behind her, and it only served to fuel her own growing agitation.

Closing her eyes she rested her head in her hands, trying to will away the dull ache that had crept in behind her eyes. She felt helpless and decidedly out of control, two sensations that she hadn't felt in years.

Almost without thought she reached for Dean, trying to make a connection with him, to anchor herself down in a world that seemed to be shifting wildly under her feet. But like before, she was met with a strange sort of void, a nothingness that was almost all consuming.

Hannah resisted the temptation to scream at the top of her lungs, taking a deep soothing breath to try and settle her ragged emotions. As she exhaled, her pocket buzzed to life and with anxious greedy hands she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

"Hello" she answered without looking at the caller id. She could help the well spring of hope in the pit of her stomach that it may well have been Dean returning her call.

"Washington State." was the only word spoken, but from his long rounded accent, Hannah picked that it was Pat's voice.

"Washington State?" she repeated momentarily confused.

"I have a friend in the analysis unit at the FBI" explained Pat "who cross referenced all of the incidents that you listed and he came up with two possible areas. The one with the highest probability was around Spokane in Washington State."

As soon as Hannah heard FBI her heart went to her throat, she was fairly certain that Pat would have been smart enough not to mention what he was looking for, or who more precisely, but she still had to ask.

"You didn't mention to the FBI why you were looking did you?" she almost cringed waiting for a response.

"No" replied Pat forcefully "This guy owes me. I'm helping him pay of his debt to his bookie without his wife finding out, so he is happy to do to a favour or two for me on face value."

"Thanks Pat" said Hannah rapidly gathering her things together "You're a marvel"

"No problems" he said casually "Just let me know how you go."

Hannah rapidly hung up the phone and gathered all of the books on the desk in front of her. She returned them in a teetering stack back to the shelving trolley and hurried out to where Charlotte was parked on the street.

With uncharacteristic haste, Hannah tossed her coat into the back seat and then leaning across the front seat, she pulled out maps that she had accumulated in her travels. Opening a map of the county, Hannah ran her fingers along the interstate highways tracing a path through Wyoming and Idaho to reach Spokane.

It was a fair distance and she would be crossing several state lines, but she felt energised at just having a direction. Gnawing doubt started to eat at her as to whether she could trust Pat's contact or whether or not they would still be in Spokane when she got there, but she tried to quell them. This was all she had to go on and she would follow it for as long as she could.

Having decided on a route, Hannah folded the maps and placed them on the passengers seat beside her, then checking the traffic, she made a harried u turn, squealing Charlotte's tires in the process and made a B line for the interstate.

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Flesh and Blood**

**291 Days**

**Spokane, Washington – 11:23pm**

Dean looked up from the notes he was reading and rubbed at his eyes. Looking over his shoulder he saw that Wendy had long ago fallen asleep, sprawled across her couch and Sam had nodded off with his lap top propped between his knees.

Dean took a moment to study the woman who had taken them in almost unquestioningly. They had dropped the Animal Control truck back that afternoon, and Wendy had arranged with her supervisor for the next few days off, then she had travelled with the boys back to their motel, and convinced them to stay with her until this was over. Dean wasn't sure if it had been generosity or fear that drove her to do that, either way it had still been a very trusting act on her part.

Dean had been right about Wendy. Dressed as she was now in her hip hugger jeans and a tank top, he could see that she was a stunning looking woman with a long svelte body and small firm breasts. Twelve months ago he would have considered her fair game. But now, even though he could appreciate her for her beauty, she didn't attract him in the same way she once might have.

Dean sighed and looked from her to where Sam slept, wedged between the sofa and the coffee table, his laptop balance precariously on his knees. Dean was half tempted to go and rescue it from its position, but he didn't want to disturb Sam. If he were to be completely honest with himself he kind of liked these few precious moments that he got to himself.

As quietly as he could, Dean pulled out John Winchester's journal from his coat and opened it up at the beginning, marvelling again at the 25years of accumulated knowledge scribbled down on the pages within. He began scanning the pages again, looking for any note, any scribble or scrawled clue as to what they might be dealing with.

The pack of dogs confused him. They were not the classic 'Hell Hounds' that he and Sam had experience in the past. For a start they were way too visible, and from their experience in the animal shelter, the dogs that comprised this pack were not some spectral entity but ordinary everyday domestic dogs.

Dean skimmed over the entries about werewolves and black dogs, both of which didn't match the profile of the pack that they had experienced. He searched the pages that he had seen so many times, looking for even the briefest glimpse of insight, but this seemed to be entirely new.

"I wish you were here dad." Dean muttered to himself as he turned several more of the journal pages and in a way it was true, but what Dean sincerely wished is that he could talk to the Doc. She had a way of putting things into perspective, of reasoning even the most problematic thing out.

Feeling largely defeated Dean slumped down in his seat and let his head come to rest on the table. He felt such an awesome weight sitting on his shoulders now and there was no reprieve for him. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, and as always his thoughts turned to the Doc.

It could easily be said that he had a preoccupation with the silk of her fiery auburn hair and the sultry fullness of her lips. He gave his imagination free reign bringing a picture of her to mind. She was smiling at him in his thoughts and her eyes held that kind of inner mischief that she seemed to reserve for those closest to her.

He remembered the taste of her and the subtle yet distinctive scent of her skin and for a moment he felt she could have been in the room with him. He reached for her in his mind and was enveloped with the warmth of being accepted for what he was and what he did.

Dean felt her then, not in his imagination, but for real. It was the same sense that he had had before and he knew it almost as intimately as he knew himself. Hannah was with him, reaching for him just as he was reaching for her. Her essence seemed so far away, be even still he could sense an urgency about it.

Internally Dean sighed at the glorious familiarity of it. He hadn't conceived of how deeply he could miss someone's presence until he had deprived himself of it. Instinctively, Dean let his psyche reach for the Doc. It felt as natural to him as breathing and the rational side of his brain reasoned that he wasn't putting her in any danger, just by enjoying her mental presence.

If he could have described how it felt, it was like seeing someone familiar in a crowded room. He wasn't close enough to speak with her, but he was fully aware of her presence in his mind and he certainly recognised that she was fully aware of him. He got impressions from her presence that spoke of urgency and to a degree…desperation, but she couldn't communicate anything beyond that to him.

Dean snapped awake, sitting bolt upright as if he were waking from a dream. He had lost his connection with the Doc, but the impressions that she had left him with were still fresh in his mind and he looked around the room, seeing if his sudden movement had woken either Wendy or Sam.

He couldn't for the life of him shake the idea that the Doc needed him and for the first time he realised that it was more than just wishful thinking on his part. He got up out of his seat and walked through Wendy's small apartment to the sliding doors that lead to a small balcony that looked out over the garden city of Spokane.

He eased himself out on the balcony with the stealth of a practised thief and pulling his phone from his pocket, Dean studied it for a long moment, debating whether or not he should call her.

* * *

**291 Days**

**I90 - Big Timber, Montana – 11:37pm**

Hannah felt Dean in her mind like a long forgotten memory. His presence brushed the periphery of her senses, like a lovers caress and Hannah was so startled by his presence, the she missed the curve of the road and went careening onto the wrong side of the road.

The big rigs horn, soon bought her concentration back and she fought Charlotte's wheel to try and gain control of her car. Charlotte swerved dangerously, narrowly missing the bull bar of the big rig that barrelled by. But Hannah had over corrected now and had thrown Charlotte in a mad skid across her own lane.

With a skill born of sheer terror, Hannah managed to steer out of the skid and pulled up in the breakdown lane, just shy of the crash barrier. Hannah's heart thudded in her chest wildly and she sucked in great mouthfuls of air, all the while trying to organise her chaotic mind enough to reach for Dean, to sense him even if only for a moment.

She could feel him out there, but she couldn't quite lock in on him so he stayed in her mind like a figure obscured by a thick fog. Hannah felt desperate, madly trying everything she knew to establish a firmer connection with him even if it was only for a second. She drew on every reservoir of energy that she possessed, but his essence was elusive and always just beyond her reach.

Hannah cursed loudly and struck her hand on the steering wheel in frustration as she felt him slip back into the nothingness. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to shed them, her logical brain kicking in to try and rationalise what all this might mean.

The effort of trying to contact Dean had left her physically exhausted, but even still, her analytical mind whirred with activity. Perhaps whatever had been preventing Hannah from connecting with Dean was influenced by proximity and the closer that she got to him, the easier it might be for her to make contact.

When her mobile phone rang in the silence of the car, Hannah jumped slightly at the intrusion of the high pitched ring tone. She grabbed for the phone, that sat neatly in the centre consol and noting the caller ID, Hannah answered it with her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"Dean" Hannah said hearing the desperation in her own voice.

There was no answer on the other end and a growing sense of despair began to creep into Hannah. Maybe it wasn't Dean? Maybe it was someone who had Dean's phone?

"Dean. Please say something. Just let me know that your there." she said, trying desperately to calm her voice down.

She heard what sounded like an exhalation of breath on the other end of the phone and then abruptly they were disconnected. Hannah cursed a second time, quelling the instinct to hurl the phone at the nearest hard surface.

Her disappointment was echoed in the spirit of John Winchester. Hannah, dialled Dean back, hoping that he may relent and decide to speak with her, but as she suspected the phone diverted automatically to his voicemail.

She hadn't wanted to break the news about John to Dean over the phone, but desperation was forcing her to act well out of character. She also didn't want to relay too many details about what was going on, just in case it wasn't Dean who was on possession of the phone. As soon as the long tone had finished, Hannah took in a deep breath trying to compose exactly what she was going to say.

"Dean, I know you intended not to speak with me any more and given normal circumstances I would have respected your wishes, but something has arisen and I urgently need to speak with you, so please call me as soon as you get this. Honestly Dean, I wouldn't call if it wasn't a matter of some urgency."

With that Hannah ended the call, thinking that this message sounded exactly like the half dozen that she had left before. The difference was that this time, Dean had rung her first. Maybe this would be the message that he responded to.

291 Days

**Spokane, Washington – 11:37pm**

A sharp pain hit Dean in the chest as soon as he heard her voice. His intellect and his heart had been at war even as he dialled her number, but when he heard her voice, his throat constricted so painfully, that he couldn't speak even if he had wanted to.

Dean cursed himself silently. What kind of dumb, godforsaken masochist was he? He would never be able to get past her and concentrate on the things that he needed to do if he kept going back and opening the wound. Even as she pleaded for him to say something he couldn't quite find the words. So on a heavy sigh; he closed the phone cursing himself as a complete idiot.

He should never have called, never listened to the pleading tone in Hannah's voice. Whatever was going on with her that had caused her desperation, he was sure the she could handle it. When Sam and he got involved things just seemed to go from bad to worse for the Doc. No! It was better this way, he lectured to himself.

He heard the sliding door open and looked over his shoulder as Sam emerged out on the balcony. As surreptitiously as he could Dean turned his phone off and slid it into the pocket of his jeans as Sam came to stand with him at the balcony.

"What was that about?" asked Sam, with a subtle gesture of his head, that told Dean he had seen exactly what had gone down out here.

"Nothing" muttered Dean trying to deflect Sam's attention "Just listening to my voice mails."

Sam smiled a humourless smile and kept his gaze firmly on the lights of the city that sprawled out before them.

"Dean, I know your pissed at me and all, but we can't go on if you won't at least be honest with me."

Dean eyed his brother suspiciously.

"Are you running around in my head again?" he asked bristling at the prospect.

Sam's head dropped forward and he shook his head slowly almost in disbelief.

"Dean, I don't need to read your thoughts to know what is going on with you. I can feel it here" he said tapping at his sternum "Like a rail spike being driven through with a sledgehammer."

Dean let out the breath that he had been holding and scrubbed at his face with an agitated hand.

Sam looked at him sideways. "Man, I'm not going to presume I have any idea what went on between the two of you or anything…but have you ever once stopped to consider how out of character this is for you?"

When Dean began to protest, Sam held up his hand and cut him off before he could speak.

"All I'm saying Dean, is the only girl who I've ever known you to have really strong feelings for, was Cassie and when that job was over you managed to walk away from it with less than a tenth of the angst and shit that you're going through now. I mean doesn't that make you wonder?"

Dean looked out broodingly at the city scape of Spokane, he was silent as Sam studied him.

"Hannah's a pretty strong psychic Dean, I don't know maybe she did something to you. Hell, she has enough spell books, maybe she put a spell on you?"

Without looking at Sam, Dean thought about the words. One half of him rejected it as absolutely ludicrous while the other half wanted to accept it as truth to justify the kind of pain that he was going through.

"She saved my life." said Dean his voice sounding strangely hollow.

"Yeah" Sam conceded "She did. But then we didn't hear hide nor hair from her until after the horde was released. I mean doesn't that strike you as strange. Let's face it, your life was in danger plenty of times between Patterson and when the horde were released, why didn't she show up then?"

Dean looked down at the balcony as Sam's words weighed on him.

"Dean, all I'm saying is. Consider some of the possibilities here. Maybe our meeting in Patterson was genuine and then one of the Demons got to her when the horde was released. It wouldn't be the first time that someone we know has been used against us."

Dean looked at his brother for the first time, his face was drawn into hard lines, but for a brief moment, the pain he felt was reflected in his eyes.

"I felt her tonight" Dean finally confessed, his voice icy and devoid of the boiling emotions that were locked in his chest "She felt confused and desperate."

At his confession Sam's eyebrow's arched in surprise. He thought he had been doing a pretty good job of shielding their presence, perhaps he needed to concentrate on that a little harder.

"Could you tell why?" Sam finally asked, pleased that Dean was at least talking to him about it.

"No" Dean answered tersely.

"Could it be, that she is getting desperate because she has lost contact with you and that may be upsetting whoever she is working for?"

Dean looked at him sharply, but held his tongue on the rude remark that he was itching to snap back.

"Hey" said Sam holding up his hands in surrender "I'm just throwing out ideas for consideration."

"I don't understand why that would worry her. She's found me before; I don't see why she couldn't do it again?"

Sam straightened giving his brother a slightly guilty look. "Well I might be able to explain that." He said and flinched under Dean's razor stare. "Ever since Reno, I have been practising psychically shielding us from…well pretty much everybody."

"Why didn't you tell me Sam?" Dean snapped angrily, and instinctively Sam took a step away from him.

"At first I didn't even know if I could" he explained "It's only recently that I have been practising it, and I didn't think to tell you until I was sure that I could do it ok."

Dean looked singularly unhappy with Sam's response but said nothing.

"Dean, I love you. You're my flesh and blood and the only family I have left in this world. I know you have feeling for Hannah, but there is something definitely not right about her; something that she is hiding from us. I wish I could articulate it for you better so you could understand where I'm coming from, but it is an instinct. I know you're still pissed at me, and maybe you have every right to be, but if you ever had any faith in me, then please trust me on this."

Dean didn't look at Sam, he couldn't. He just stared out into the darkness, running over everything that Sam had said. Realising that the conversation was over, Sam left his brother and went back inside to give him some space.

For a long time Dean stood on the balcony starring with unseeing eyes. He had no idea what to believe anymore and the more he thought about it, the more it tore him up inside. The one thing that Sam was right about is that this was way out of character for him. But his life was different now. He had so little time left in this world that perhaps his priorities were changing…hell, he had changed, there was no doubt.

As the night slipped past, Dean realised that he was no closer to the answers he so desperately needed just to keep functioning. So he turned and headed inside, spotting the pillow and blanket that Wendy had left for him on the sofa. She had told him there was a fold away bed in the sofa, but he didn't bother to pull it out. Instead, he just stretched out on the sofa and dragged the blanket up over himself. He thought sleep would elude him anyway, so what was the point of trying to make yourself comfortable.

290 Days

**I90 - Livingston, Montana – 00:54am**

Shear force of will kept Hannah's eyes open as she pulled into the motel just outside of Livingstone. She had gone as far as she possibly could this night, or morning she corrected, and now she was desperate for some sleep.

Pulling up near the front office, Hannah walked in to the foyer that was light by harsh yellow fluorescent lights. She rang the night buzzer and waited patiently until portly older man appeared in pyjamas and an old red robe, that had definitely seen better days.

Despite the fact that she had obviously pulled him from his bed, the man smiled kindly at her and leaned forward on the counter.

"Welcome to the Livingston Inn" he said cheerily "What can we help you with this morning."

Hannah stepped up to the counter, grateful at the man's pleasantness. After the king of night she had, she could certainly use a friendly face.

"I'm so sorry to wake you, but do you have a room available?"

The man's smile broadened. "We surely do ma'am. In fact we have several. I've got two rather tidy little singles just here next to the office, or if you are looking for a little bit more room, there's a really lovely double on the corner. It's away from our other guests so it should be nice and quiet for you?"

Hannah smiled back at him, feeling that his affable nature was more than just a good work ethic. This man was a genuinely nice man, and Hannah wanted to do right by him just as keenly as he was looking to do right by her.

"The double sounds nice. I'll take that." She said with a smile, handing over her credit card in anticipation.

"That's a good choice; it will just give you a little more breathing room. I'll just get you to fill in the register right here for me. Is it only for tonight or will you be with us for longer?"

Hannah smiled at the man almost regretfully "Unfortunately this is just a stop over. I'll be heading out tomorrow."

As the man processed her credit card he chuckled slightly "All right then. Just so you know, check out time is 11am and we serve breakfast between 5 and 8."

Hannah gasped "5am! That's early."

The man shrugged good naturedly as he handed her a pen to sign on the receipt. "We get a lot of fishing folk here, they tend to like an early start."

"Well, I think I can safely say that I won't be seeing you at breakfast." replied Hannah as she scrawled her name on the slip.

"Well Ms Riordan" said the man looking at the signatures on both her card and the receipt "If you happen to miss the breakfast times, I'm sure Milly wouldn't mind whipping something up for you later. You can just ring dial 9 and it will put you through to me and I'm sure we can sort you out, not problem what so ever. And if 11am is a little too early for you to check out…well what's an hour of two between friends."

Hannah again smiled tiredly as the man handed her the key to her room. "Thank you very much, and again I'm sorry for waking you."

He shrugged once again "Not a problem Ms Riordan…Occupational hazard."

Hannah wished him a good night and then on legs that felt like limp noodles, she walked back to Charlotte and slid in behind the steering wheel. She only had to drive a few hundred feet until she was parked out the front of her room, and feeling like it was entirely too much effort to get her bag from the car, Hannah just let herself in and flopped fully dressed on the nearest bed.

290 Days

**Spokane, Washington – 7:21am**

Dean's eyes flickered open, he felt like he had literally just closed them, but the light in the room told him differently. He had lain awake for a very long time, but eventually sleep had overwhelmed him.

As he readjusted his aching body into a more comfortable position, he heard movement in the kitchen. He was fairly certain that it would be Sam or Wendy, but a lifetime of cautious habit was hard to break, so as he got up, he slipped a revolver from his duffle and hid it in at the small of his back.

On silent feet he walked around until he was looking through the kitchen. Wendy, dressed in a pair of short pyjamas was fixing herself some breakfast, but as Dean came into view, she looked up at him like a doe caught in the headlights of a truck.

"Oh!" she said in surprise "I'm sorry. Did I wake you?"

Dean followed the long expanse of golden leg that was bare from her mid thigh all the way to the floor, before he could meet her eyes. He noticed that she flushed slightly under his attention, but what could he do…he was after all human.

"No" he said remembering that she had asked him a question.

"Didn't sleep so well huh?" she questioned pulling another glass from a cupboard and pouring a second glass of orange juice.

Dean shook his head with a humourless laugh "Nope."

Wendy, held out the juice to him "No, me neither. I dreamed that every bad B grade horror I'd ever seen came to life and they were all after me."

Dean held up his glass in a mock toast "Welcome to my life." He said with a smile then took a long swig of the juice.

Wendy dropped a couple pf pieces of bread into her chrome toaster and eyed Dean as he stood leaning on the door jam of the kitchen.

"How do you do it?" she asked studying him intently "Knowing what you know, how do you do it?"

"I guess the question is" said Dean rubbing at his unshaven chin "Once you know, how do you not do it?"

Wendy considered this for a moment and nodded but still the brief glimpse into the brother's lives had filled her with so much fear, that she was pretty certain that she couldn't live with it on a day to day basis.

"How many people do you think the demons have killed?" she asked solemnly

Dean shrugged taking another sip of the juice that she had given him "I don't know" he confessed "Thousands probably."

"And only you and Sam out there fighting them." She said with and edge of apprehension in he voice.

Dean understood her fear, thought it was justified. Once people found out what was going on in the real world mundane problems like mortgage payment and tax audits just seemed to pale in comparison.

"There are others" Dean soothed, hoping to alleviate some of the burden that Wendy's new found knowledge was obviously causing her "Not too many, but there are some."

Wendy nodded with a small smile on her face "So what next? What do we do now?"

Dean contemplated that for a moment, wandering over to the sink to rinse out his glass. "Now" he said enigmatically with a long pause for dramatic effect "Now I need to jump in the shower."

Before Wendy could respond they heard Sam's heavy footed steps from the second bedroom.

"Good, I'm glad you're both up, I think I've got a theory." He called

As he swung into view of the kitchen, Dean saw the moment where he caught sight of Wendy. Sam's jaw slackened just slightly and Dean watched as his brother did a sweep of Wendy from head to toe and back up again, naked appreciation apparent in his eyes.

"Ata boy Sam." said Dean with a mischievous smile "Good to see your still in the land of the living."

Wendy, may have actually been embarrassed by Dean's jibe if she hadn't been so shocked at Sam's own appearance. He had been so eager to share his idea with the two of them, that he had only taken the time to pull on his ragged jeans, leaving his chest and torso bare as the day he was born.

"I'm hitting the shower." Dean announced as he rapidly left the kitchen leaving the gaping speechless pair to stare at each other.

Beside Wendy, the toaster ejected its contents, startling her out of her reverie.

"Toast?" she said through a mouth that had suddenly gone dry.

"Love some." replied Sam, not daring to move lest he reveal the sudden and very visceral reaction he had to a barely clad Wendy. He couldn't help watching the way her lithe body moved as she reached up to fetch a plate from the upper shelf, and he all but groaned when she leaned into the fridge leaving only her taut rounded bottom poking out from behind the fridge door.

Almost limping, he hurried to sit down at the table, unable to believe that he hadn't figured out how hot Wendy actually was until right at that moment. When Wendy came out carrying the plate and a couple of jars of peanut butter and jam, Sam was tempted to wipe his chin, just to assure himself that he wasn't drooling.

"How's the hand?" he asked, unable to take his eyes off her.

"It's alright I guess." she said returning back to the kitchen. "I doesn't hurt as much as yesterday that's for sure."

Sam watched as she slipped a couple more slices into the toaster, then came back over to lean on the door jam.

"Do you want a glass of juice? Some coffee maybe?"

Sam smiled as he watched the way her hip curved as she leaned it against the door jam.

"Coffee would be good." He heard himself mutter and watched again as she returned back to the kitchen.

"I like it pretty strong" she called from the kitchen "I hope that's ok?"

"I drink it any way it comes." said Sam, trying to draw on enough of his attention to spread some Jam on his toast. He was unfortunately failing miserably.

Behind him he could hear the shower running, and prayed that Dean would be out of there soon. He needed something else to fix his attention on, or if he wasn't careful he would embarrass himself by jumping the poor woman in her own apartment.

Soon Wendy was seating herself in the chair opposite Sam, with a plate of toast for herself and a fresh pot of coffee.

"It's a bit of a Spartan breakfast I know, but I haven't been shopping this week" Wendy confessed, pouring herself a mug of coffee "I just couldn't face carrying shopping bags from the store single handed."

Sam smiled at Wendy across the table, trying hard not to stare at her.

"Well Dean and I could probably help you out there if you like?" he said almost flinching at the eagerness he heard in his own voice "It's certainly the least we could do after you let us stay with you and all."

Wendy smiled, reaching across the table for the peanut butter and giving Sam just the briefest hint of the swell of her breasts. "I would think you have more important things on your mind than groceries."

Sam shrugged pouring some coffee for himself "We all still gotta eat, right?"

"It is kind of really bizarre now to think of such mundane things when you've just learned that there are ghosts and goblins and all manner of evil stuff out in the world." Wendy mused, her eyes starring unfocused at Sam.

"Life goes on Wendy" Sam said, feeling the sentiment to his very core. "It has to, or they win."

"I guess" Wendy said, but Sam caught the hint of fear in her eyes.

He resettled himself back in his chair nursing a mug of coffee, determined to take her mind of the subject. "Tell me. How does someone like you end up working with animal control?"

Wendy looked up from her coffee "Truth?" she said mirroring Sam's smile "I actually don't like people very much."

"Really" baulked Sam "You could have fooled me!"

"No really" said Wendy, he smile broadening on her face "I always loved animals a hell of a lot more than people. They don't lie to you, or walk out on you or use you to get back at anyone else. They are what they are!"

She smiled a bit ruefully now "Or at least they used to be."

"So why animal control, why not become a vet or a dog trainer or something?" continued Sam, again attempting to take Wendy's mind of their current situation.

"I would take in every stray that I found. I just wanted to keep all of them, I couldn't understand why someone would let something so precious get away from them, or worse, throw them away. I wasn't allowed a pet so my Father made me take them down to the pound or the shelter. Watching the volunteers get to play with all the dogs and cats that came in, taking care of them and finding them homes, I knew that was the only thing I ever wanted to do with my life. So at first I volunteered while I was going through school and then when a position opened I just applied and slipped right in."

"Huh" said Sam impressed "That's a hell of a lot cooler than a lawyer."

Wendy looked at him quizzically "You wanted to be a lawyer?"

Sam shifted uncomfortable under her gaze "It doesn't seem very likely now, does it?"

"No. No." Wendy assuaged quickly "I didn't mean it like that. I was just surprised that you would want to do something so…."

"Ordinary?" Sam finished for her.

She struggled for a moment trying to find a word, any word that would make what she was trying to say sound better, but unfortunately her mind went completely blank.

"Well Ok" she relented "Ordinary."

Sam took a sip from his coffee and studied her over the rim of his mug. "Actually, all I ever wanted in my life was to be ordinary" confessed Sam "Go to college, get into Law school, join a firm and have the wife and the 2.4 children with the house in the suburbs. I guess that just wasn't to be."

"What happened?" asked Wendy her voiced tinged with sympathy

Sam shrugged, unwilling to go into the details of his father's disappearance or Jessica's death so he thought of something effectively evasive.

"I guess hunting demons is kind of like being in the mafia. Once you're in, you can never truly get out"

Wendy looked at him again; fear clouding her large brown eyes "Will that happen to me?" she said unable to hide the slight quaver in her voice.

Sam sat up tall in his seat, realising immediately that he had said precisely the wrong thing.

"No Wendy, that wont happen to you." he said with conviction "I won't let it happen." And as if to punctuate his words his eyes sparked molten amber for a moment.

As Wendy and Sam looked at each other over the table, Dean came into the room and sat down at the kitchen table, instantly pouring himself a cup of coffee. His face was freshly shaved and his hair was still damp from his shower.

"Alright" he said, picking up the milk jug and pouring some into his coffee "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing" said Wendy pushing away her half finished toast and standing "Now that the shower is free I think I'll jump in myself."

With that she stood and walked past the brothers, Sam watched her as she walked by, and Dean watched Sam with a growing smile on his face. When Sam turned back to look at him, he caught the look on Dean's faced and instantly stiffened defensively.

"What?" he said indignantly, but Dean just smiled, shaking his head and holding up his hands in surrender.

"What was this grand theory you were going on about before you realised that little miss dog catcher has more legs than a bucket of chicken?"

"Shut up Dean." said Sam, feeling his face flaming. He shoved at Dean's shoulder in annoyance, but all it made Dean do was snicker all the more.

"Come on man" said Dean finally "Spill it."

"Well we know that Rimmon is here trying to build and army for Beleth right?"

"Well that's what we assume." agreed Dean.

"And what does every army need" said Sam

Dean shrugged not following where Sam was going with this "I don't know…Marlboroughs and Penthouse?"

"No" said Sam irritably "Cannon fodder. Foot soldiers. Think about it Dean. In any army the majority of bodies are the foot solders, the infantry."

Dean looked at his brother, the puzzlement clear on his face "Sammy, I don't see how this relates to a pack of hell bound canines."

"Just consider this for a second." said Sam "It takes quite a lot of power for a demon to posses a human being. They have to overcome their will and their ability to reason. And if you weren't a particularly strong demon that might be a constant battle which…."

"means that you would probably pick a much easier host to control." Finished Dean, finally following Sam's line of thought.

"Dog's have intelligence, but they don't have strong reasoning capabilities and they tend to follow their strongest instinct. Zoologist have even theorised that Dog's in fact have no sense of themselves as an individual which would make them the perfect host for a lesser demon."

"Foot soldiers huh?" asked Dean, rubbing at his chin in concentration "What made you come up with that theory."

Sam shifted his gaze unable to meet his brother's eyes. He didn't want to tell him that Mike had come to him in his dream last night and given him some more information so he thought of a reasonable alternative.

"It was just something that I read on the net last night, got me thinking."

Dean nodded "Well it makes sense" he said with a subtle shrug, and then his eyes lit up with a smile "And it gives us an opportunity"

Sam's eyebrow drew together in confusion "An opportunity to do what?"

Dean's eyes gleamed with mischief and his growing smile continued to curve his lips "To test the new bullets for the colt."

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**290 Days**

**I90 - Whitehall, Montana – 10:11am**

As Hannah sped past the exit to Whitehall, she had a momentary thought to pull off and get something to eat. As the kind inn keeper had predicted, she had slept right through the breakfast service at the inn, and despite his assurance that it was no trouble; she couldn't quite bring herself to ask his wife to fix something for her.

She had slept late, much later than she had intended to, and now she was battling this horrible sense of being behind schedule. Something was coming, some event that would change everything and while the detail of it eluded her; she had enough precognitive sense to feel it barrelling towards them like an out of control train.

Hannah had slept fitfully throughout the night, feeling Dean so close but constantly slipping out of her grasp. It didn't help her, that she was getting the same constant feeling of impending doom from John. His energy was getting weaker by the hour and with it his sense of urgency was building.

As she had jumped into Charlotte this morning, Hannah had said a quick prayer to any god that was listening that Dean and Sam would be in Spokane by the time that she got there.

**

* * *

**

290 Days

**Spokane, Washington – 3:23 pm**

As Wendy unlocked the door to her apartment, Dean shifted the grocery bag that was slipping off his hip. The three of them had spent a completely unsatisfying morning trying to hunt down the pack. They had tried the rail yard and then followed the tracks down to where Wendy had first encountered the pack.

When that didn't pan out, Dean had lead them off tracking through the wooded area next to the train tracks, but they hadn't found so much as a paw print to even indicate that there had ever been a dog in that area.

Eventually, Sam had talked him into calling it a day, telling him that they would go back tonight and see if they had any better luck. Perhaps now that the pack knew that there was a pair of hunters in town, they had gone to ground to protect themselves.

Dean had reluctantly agreed with his brother when he had caught sight of Wendy. The poor woman, looked tired and ragged and afraid, all of which Dean could hardly fault her for. She had been thrust into their world without her knowledge or consent, but she was dealing with it better than most would under the circumstances.

He had also noticed the way Sam's eyes softened every time they turned towards the long limbed woman and even he had to confess that her look of complete vulnerability had touched inside of him. So they have mad a quick stop at the market, then taken the poor woman back to her apartment.

Walking into the apartment, Dean unceremoniously dumped his load on the kitchen table, next to where Sam had put his own down. Wendy sighed heavily as she opened the fridge.

"Anyone want a drink?" she called as she leaned into the fridge.

"No I'm good" called Dean looking around the apartment, suddenly feeling horribly claustrophobic.

"No thanks" replied Sam beginning to unpack the groceries from the bags on the table.

Dean looked around the apartment and for a reason he couldn't explain, his eyes automatically sort out the exits. His frustration was clawing at him, and the proximity of everyone in the room was crowding him in. Watching his brother helping Wendy unpacking the shopping, he knew he had to find his own space.

As Sam came back to get another load, Dean caught him by the arm.

"Dude" he said as casually as he could make his voice. "I need to take off for a bit."

Sam looked at him warily "What? Where?"

"No where in particular." confessed Dean with a subtle shrug of his shoulders "I just need a bit of breathing room."

Sam's eyes narrowed on his brother and he was sorely tempted to reach for his gifts. It would be such and easy thing, so brush Dean's mind and get a sense of what he was thinking, but considering that had turned out the last time, he resisted the urge.

"Dean are you going to contact Hannah?" he asked, his tone slightly accusatory.

"No" said Dean honestly, looking at his brother square in the eye. "I'm just ….. I don't know? I just got to get out of here for a while."

Sam's face softened as he could feel Dean's frustration humming about him like angry wasps.

"Beside" said Dean "I would have thought you'd be happy to get rid of the third wheel for a little while, you know, work your mojo."

At Dean's words, Sam felt heat rush to his face and both Winchester's turned to the kitchen where Wendy, was packing groceries into the fridge oblivious to there exchange.

"Alright" relented Sam, his eyes lingering on the willowy blonde "Just don't do anything stupid."

"Hey" said Dean with a cocky smile "It's me."

Sam rolled and patted Dean on the shoulder. "Yeah that's what I'm afraid of."

Dean stuffed his hands in his pockets to confirm that he had his keys, then looking at Sam with stern eyes he said "Be ready to leave at 8."

Sam nodded in understanding and watched as his brother headed out of the apartment. When Wendy came up close to his shoulder, he felt her body heat radiating against his back and he turned to look at her, sweeping his gaze over her slightly curly golden hair and her warm brown eyes.

"Where's Dean going?" she questioned looking at the closing door.

"He's just heading out for bit." Sam said trying to be evasive "He'll be back tonight before we go back out."

Wendy turned intense eyes on Sam's face. "Am I slowing you down?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and then he smiled "No not at all." he said laying a consoling hand on her arm "We are just used to being on the move. If we are in a place more than a couple of days, Dean tends to suffer from cabin fever a bit."

"And you don't?" she questioned watching Sam carefully.

San felt the full intensity of her eyes on her and averted his own on anything but the beautiful woman before him.

"Not so much" he muttered with a half smile feeling awkward and unsure of himself left alone in the apartment with a woman who he was growing more attracted to by the second.

"God" said Wendy unpacking more of her groceries "That would be my worst nightmare."

"All the travelling around?" Sam asked, resuming his assistance.

"Yep" she said with fervour "I am a born and bread home body."

"Really?" Sam asked, enjoying the light mundane chatter "So you don't go out much?"

"No, not really" Wendy replied, leaning on the kitchen counter, the curve of her hit jutting out seductively "I wouldn't go out by myself, and most of my friends come from the shelter and I see them all day at work."

"What about boy friends?" asked Sam, trying desperately to keep his voice even "I bet a girl like you gets asked out all the time?"

Wendy paused for a moment studying Sam with her brows furrowed. Her body stiffened and she stood up straight adopting something akin to a defensive stance. "Are you making fun of me?"

Sam baulked, surprised by her response "No, not at all" he said, hearing slight panic in his words "I was being serious."

"Well what do you mean by a girl like me?" she asked snappily and Sam realised that he had inadvertently hit on something that must have been a sore spot.

"No I didn't mean anything really" he said struggling to make up for his mistake "It was just because, well you know…you're so tall and beautiful and everything."

Wendy stopped and looked at Sam with wide eyed surprise. It looked almost like he had slapped her across the face, instead of called her beautiful.

"I'm sorry" Sam said, appalled by her response "Did I say something wrong?"

Wendy's eyes became suddenly glassy and she rapidly turned her attention back to packing the groceries away.

"No" she said quietly "It's just no one has ever said that to me before."

Sam was genuinely surprised by that. At a solid 6 feet tall, Wendy had the kind of long limbed height that a super model would kill for. Her naturally olive colouring meant that her skin looked golden and her warm brown eyes complimented the pale golden fall of her hair. She was naturally a stunning looking woman, yet she appeared to be completely oblivious to the fact.

An awkward silence stretched out between them, and Sam couldn't help but feel Wendy's self consciousness growing. He hadn't wanted to make her feel bad, so he quickly formulated a plan to alleviate her tension.

"Dean mentioned that you didn't sleep too well" Sam started, making sure to keep his voice light and compelling "Why don't you get yourself some sleep before we head out tonight."

With the lightest of mental pushes, Sam gave her natural fatigue a nudge, and at his words, Wendy tried to stifle a yawn. She looked with dubious eyes at the bags of shopping still to be packed away.

"I'll finish up here." said Sam, following her eyes.

Wendy considered this for a long minute. Her eyes flicking between Sam and the shopping on the counter.

"Yeah" she finally relented "Maybe that's a good idea."

With that she slipped out of the kitchen, allowing Sam to let out the breath that he had been holding. He had seen Hannah push Dean to sleep before, but he had never tried it himself. It had turned out to be surprisingly easy, particularly when the person was naturally fatigued.

Satisfied, Sam smiled as he finished packing away the rest of the shopping. When he was done he grabbed a soda from the fridge and sat down on the sofa , channel surfing to see what Spokane's afternoon television could offer him as a diversion.

For a solid hour, Sam flicked between Jerry Springer, reruns of the Brady bunch and an English black and white war movie. Nothing really captured his attention, but he was rather enjoying the complete inertness that his family business rarely afforded him.

With alarming regularity, Sam's thoughts turned to the woman sleeping only fifteen feet away. He was genuinely surprised at himself. Sam needed more than just a pretty face and a nice body to form an attraction with someone. Usually he had to get to know them, find out if they challenged him intellectually, if they had substance as well as form, but right now he seemed to be on a really slippery slope and he had no idea why.

Sam fidgeted as he considered this out of character swing in emotion, and as he pulled it apart in his mind he wondered if it was really that out of character. Alright…so he had really taken notice of Wendy when he had seen her with her barely there pyjamas on. But he had to admit, he had been pretty impressed they way she had offered to take them out to where she had encountered the pack.

She had also offered to help them in any way, and opened her own house to them. As Sam considered this, he realised that he was beginning to know her. So they hadn't sat down together and talked until the wee hours of the morning, but every action that Wendy had made since meeting the brothers spoke of her character. She was compassionate, brave, generous and smart. All qualities that Sam found appealing in a woman.

The realisation struck him hard and he sat heavily in the chair as if a bolder sat squarely on his chest. Ignoring the chatter that was on the television, Sam closed his eyes and thought about the implications of what this would mean for him.

He and Dean were just passing through. That's all they would ever do, but this war wouldn't go on forever. Sam had to believe that, or what he and Dean were doing would be meaningless. On the tail of that thought, Sam quickly realised that he obviously couldn't start anything with Wendy now, that just wouldn't be fair, but maybe he could keep in touch with her. And if they were passing near by, he might be able to drop in and see her.

As Sam played out scenarios in his head, subconsciously his sixth sense spiked fixating on the woman in the other room, just as the man who wielded it did. Sam became aware of Wendy in his mind's eye. She was lying on the bed in her t-shirt and panties, having left her jeans haphazardly on the floor.

In her sleep Wendy twitched whimpering ever so slightly. Sam's consciousness flowed over her and he felt with his mind every inch of soft golden skin, the comparative coarseness of the cotton of her underwear and t-shirt and finally the heavy abrasive bandaged that encircled her right hand and wrist.

Intrigued at this heightened perception, Sam pushed his consciousness further, his essence slipping in through the pours of her skin like rays of light. And as it did, Sam could feel in his mind, the dull ache of her injured hand, the tension and release of muscles as they twitched and the rapid pounding of her heart.

Something was wrong, Sam knew it immediately. Wendy's body was not giving him the signs of someone at rest. Wendy was afraid and her physical body could not help but radiate that fear.

Now concerned for her, Sam pushed further, past Wendy's flesh and bone and into her spirit. With the gentlest of thoughts he pushed past her minds natural defences and tried to ascertain what had frightened her. As Sam broke through the last of Wendy's resistance, he was bombarded with images. Instinctively he shied away from them, but once the initial shock had passed he steadied his consciousness to have a closer look.

As Sam looked around he could see Wendy. In his mind, he heard her terrified cries as a pack of black dogs circled her. The dogs were hideously malformed, with massive tumours of rotten and bleeding flesh bursting through their coats. Some had sightless white eyes, while others had no eyeballs at all. But all had wicked toothed mouths that dripped with saliva and blood.

They snarled at her, circling around her as she backed away from them slowly. Her eyes darted between the various members of the pack, and Sam could see that she was trying to assess which of them would be the most immediate threat. It was a decision that was assessed and reassessed in rapid succession as she backed up step by step.

Sam went to move towards her, but realised he was a being of insubstantial form in her mind. He watched in horror as a wall manifested behind her and when she felt it at her back her eyes widened in terror. She realised the she was cornered and all hope of escape was gone. And as that understanding dawned on her conciousness, she whimpered uncontrollably. The dogs appeared to stop for a moment, and Sam tried to call to Wendy, but without form or substance he was powerless. There was a moment…a heartbeat where it looked like the pack may just leave her alone…and then they pounced, several dogs at a time, all of them clawing and biting their way to get at her.

Sam felt a scream within him and he watched helplessly as Wendy threw her hands protectively over her head, but it was next to useless. Their rabid teeth bit into her flesh rending it from her bones, the force of the attack pulled her off her feet and away from the wall.

Sam watched as Wendy disappeared under a mound of the monstrous dogs, the whole time his essence was seething with impotent fury. At the horror of the image, Sam's rationale mind had ceased to remember that he was embedded in Wendy's dream and for a long moment he struggled against his insubstantiality to do something for the woman who was being torn apart by the rabid pack.

Even though he couldn't see Wendy any longer, he could still hear her scream, the noise driving every sane thought from his mind. If Sam had eyes, he would have shut them and covered his ears with his hands, but in Wendy's mind, he had nothing to protect himself from the vile horror.

As soon as the idea of protecting himself entered his thoughts, Sam felt himself pulling back. It was not a conscious choice he had made, but it was almost as if his own self preservation instincts were at work here, dragging him away from the ferocity of Wendy's dream.

He woke back in his own body with a start and a searing pain in his chest. Air felt like liquid as he struggled unable to breathe and he clutched desperately to the sofa for some sort of stability. He looked around madly at his surroundings trying to orient himself, but when her heard Wendy cry out in her sleep, it was all the impetus he needed.

Sam launched to his feet, vaulting over the arm of the sofa and the coffee table in his haste. Dropping his shoulder, he slammed into Wendy's door, sending the door flying as he charged into her bed room. His momentum carried him to her bed just a Wendy sat up releasing a scream of such pent up anguish it made his stomach heave in protest and fear.

He gathered her up hard, his arms encircling her with such force that it knocked the wind from her lungs. He hadn't meant to be quite so rough, but he had seen into her dream and he had shared her horror and feeling her warm and safe in his arms went a long was to assuaging his fears.

Wendy wept unabashedly. Initially she had been confused by Sam's forceful embrace, but as her fear clawed at her she clung to him like she was lost at sea and he was the only life raft.

Sam eased his grip on her slightly, stroking a large hand over her hair as he whispered soothingly into her ear. He felt every ragged breath that she took, and her tears soaked through his shirt. He rocked her gently, speaking to her like he would speak to a small child, and eventually her crying eased.

She did not release her hold of him though. He felt solid and warm and safe under her hands, and she was desperate for him to chase the ghosts of her nightmare away. She ran her hand up and down his back, in an almost obsessive compulsive gesture, feeling the way his muscled bunch at his shoulders.

She felt his breath warm on her ear as he promised that everything would be alright and then she felt the softness of his lips as he kissed her gently on the temple, all the while stroking his big hand over her hair.

Wendy squeezed her eyes shut trying to banish the images that played like phantoms in her mind. She turned her face into the warmth of Sam's neck, smelling his clean scent and feeling the constant thud of the blood the pulsed through there.

Again she felt Sam's lips pressed against the side of her head, and he leaned back slightly to brush a comforting kiss on her tear streaked cheek. How easy she thought it would be to just turn into him and let the softness of those lips fall on her own. How perfectly reasonable it all seemed to let him kiss her and to kiss him back, to burn away all of the shadowy images that still haunted her consciousness.

Wendy felt Sam's intention to kiss her cheek one more time, but this time she did more than think, this time she turned her head so that those strong lush male lips fell almost squarely onto hers. She felt the instant of his surprise at their kiss, but in desperate need of something, anything to distract her from the nightmare that was still playing in her mind, Wendy threaded her hands deep into Sam's hair.

At the touch of Wendy's lips on his own, Sam's blood boiled. He had intended to give this woman comfort, but the moment their lips met all of his good intentions skidded dangerously off course. Wendy clung to him in desperation, so he couldn't have pulled himself away if he had wanted to. But the reality was…he really didn't want to.

Sam fought the kiss for all of a nano-second and when it became clear that Wendy was not going to release him, he gladly surrendered leaning into the kiss with an abandon that felt incredible in stark contrast to the fear that had wound his insides up like a pretzel.

Wendy felt Sam deepen the kiss, felt his eager lips move ever so slightly over hers and she was grateful that he hadn't fought back, hadn't rejected her, hadn't questioned her motives nor put an end to this incredible sensation that was battling her fear, burning it away with passionate heat.

To fall into bed with a stranger was certainly not something Wendy had ever done before. In fact she was a discerning lover, having taken very few men to her bed. But she was in new and strange territory, having learned the frightening realities of the world that she had so ignorantly existed in.

For the last two days Wendy had lived with the worst fear that she had ever felt in her life and it was relentless, not even allowing her the oblivion of sleep. She had never in her life needed to feel human contact more than she did at this very moment. In many ways it was serendipitous that Sam was here with her.

He had proven to be a rare human being in her experience. He had been so kind and considerate throughout the whole day. Where Dean had been a driven hunter, Sam had hung back, ensuring her safety and comfort the whole time, even subtly ensuring that his bigger body always protected hers. She had been always so aware of him, ever since she had seen him that morning, her physical response to him had made her hyperaware of where he was and everything he did.

She sighed into him, a feminine sound trilling up her throat, and as her lips parted to release it, she felt the invasion of Sam's tongue, gently making contact with her own. The sensation both startled and ignited her. Wendy was not a particularly experienced lover, but never had any of her former partners elicited the kind of feeling and sensation that she had now.

Sam's consciousness listed dangerously out of control, as he was swamped with emotion and sensation. Wendy's kiss was salty from her tears and her desperate urgency seemed to fuel his ever growing lust.

Their kiss was hard and urgent, robbing both of oxygen. Sam had never felt so all consumed in his entire life, and while the sensation was pure ecstasy, the very real prospect of completely losing control frightened him. Wendy was revelling in the liquid heat that was thundering through her veins. She was not usually so forward, but if felt good and right to kiss Sam as she did, particularly when her fears were so close to the surface.

Sam felt the flutter of Wendy's fears at the fringe of his consciousness and he cupped her face in his hands, pulling back from her gently in spite of the noises of protest that she made. He looked at her long and hard, searching with more than his eyes. Neither said a word, but in his mind Sam could feel just how much Wendy needed this contact, this grounding in reality. He felt the fears in her, that he would reject her, that he would stop the thing that she had decided would chase all of the shadows away, but what she didn't realise is that he had neither the heart or the inclination to stop. He wanted to give her any comfort that she needed however it came.

Still holding her warm brown eyed gaze, he suddenly smiled at her and in the next heart beat he saw her shy responding smile. Satisfied that this was something that they both wanted, no...needed, Sam bent slowly to glide his lips gently over Wendy's. He had to slow the fire that had erupted between them...fires that burned too hot soon burned out and he had no intention of racing through this.

As he kissed her, Sam ran his hands down her face, tracing his thumbs along the curve of her jaw, one of his hand slipping back in her hair to cup her head in his long fingered grip.

Wendy revelled in the taught grip that he held her with. Sam had deliberately slowed down the pace of their love making, but his embrace was firm almost fierce showing Wendy that he understood the comfort that she sort from this union. In fact Wendy almost felt that Sam needed this as much as she did.

Sam broke their kiss, allowing both of them to take a much needed breathe, but his lips didn't leave her flesh for long, tracing a blazing trail across her cheek and down the soft length of her neck. Wendy's body leaned in to him, her neck arching back to allow him access to the flesh that was flushed with heat from his touch. The movement pushed Wendy's firm breasts ever tighter against Sam, and he groaned as he felt them pressed into his body.

Using his superior strength and his bigger body, Sam laid Wendy back into the bed, taking the opportunity to kiss along her collar bone, then tracing his tongue back up to the sensitive flesh just below her ear. Wendy gasped at the exquisite sensation, her body arching again almost instinctively.

Sam's hands drifted down to Wendy's slender waist, pushing up the soft fabric of her t-shirt so that he could feel the even softer flesh underneath. He gripped her there, allowing his fingers to play over her skin catching her moan of delight again with his lips.

Wendy thought she might very well be burning alive, Sam's body lay to one side of her carefully avoiding crushing her with its weight, but the heat radiating from it was searing her senses. And every piece of skin that he touched with either his lips or fingers was on slow burn combustion. She was almost certain that flames would start licking over her flesh at any moment.

To Sam, Wendy's body was a sensory delight. The soft skin of her belly and sides felt like the finest satin under his fingertips as he splayed his hands wide to feel as much of it as he possible could. Every time he took in a desperate breath, he caught the sent of her growing arousal for him and as he kissed her soundly she tasted of honey.

The demands of his kisses left Wendy's lips feeling full and bruised, but she could not stop, would not stop. He felt amazing against her and she kissed him with the same fervour that he was now kissing her. It was like she had been starving and he was the sole source of nourishment. She could feel every touch on her sensitive skin, his hands had been skimming up and down her body, along her ribs, until one hand now held her hip in a blatantly dominant male gesture, while the other had slid up her body and was teasing the underside of her breast with taunting strokes from his fingers.

Sam's head was reeling as he continued kissing her. He was filled with a myriad of sensations and feelings that he hadn't felt in a very long time and he could do nothing more than revel in them. There were probably a thousand reasons as to why he shouldn't be doing this, but at that moment, Sam couldn't think of any of them. He had been filled with a wanting that was bone deep, a wanting that had started within him in the early hours of the morning and had dogged him throughout the entire day.

He became suddenly aware of Wendy's hands on his shoulders, pushing at him, and his mind was filled with sudden disappointment at the prospect that she may have had a change of heart, so he sat up away from her, trying to prompt his rational mind to work.

"Sam" Wendy whispered as she pushed against him and Sam heart stilled, like a hunter who was about to loose its quarry.

"Too many clothes" she said again in a whisper, tugging on the shirt that covered him.

Sam nearly laughed in relief, shrugging out of his shirt, and pulling his t-shirt over his head in a mad gesture that left his hair standing at awkward angles away from his head. He heard Wendy's slight giggle and then when he looked at her, he had the intoxicating sensation of watching her eyes dilate in pleasure as they drifted down his bare shoulder and chest. He felt the heat of her stare on his body, and stilled his reaction to it, not wanting it to be over too soon.

Wendy had seen Sam's beautiful body that morning, but seeing it now and having the prospect of touching it just as she wanted to, left a pool of molten lava churning in the centre of her body. He had an incredible physique and either he had the unique gift of coming from the deep end of the gene pool, or his life's work had honed his body into this, sculpting it into a weapon of hard flesh and muscle.

With an emboldened hand, Wendy reached out to him, running her fingertips over the hard plains of his chest and then down across his sculpted abdomen. She felt the muscles bunch under her fingertips and the response gave her almost a primal thrill.

Sam sucked air into his lungs as Wendy's fingertips slid over him in an almost torturous touch. He watched as surprise, quickly followed by delight filled her eyes at his reaction and like an endless loop of sensation, Sam felt the blood rush to his groin at her obvious pleasure. It tried Sam's patience to sit there still for her inspection and he was rapidly growing restless.

With firm fingers he took the edge of her t-shirt and slid it up over her body, revealing her glowing skin inch by glorious inch. He tugged it over breast that pushed up impertinently from underneath and Sam smiled in delight as he realised that Wendy had divested herself of her bra before climbing into bed. He paused for a heartbeat, his heated gaze on her small perfect breasts that were crowned with brown tinted nipples, sharply pinched in arousal.

Sam didn't stop though insisting that Wendy pull the t-shirt over her head, but he stopped it with a gently twist before she had freed her arms from the sleeves, leaving her arms trapped above her head and her tempting breasts exposed to his ministration. With one hand Sam kept a hold on the t-shirt that captured her arms, with the other he ran it over the length of her long slim torso, dragging calloused fingertips over her swollen nipples and making her gasp as the unexpected pleasure.

His fingers were quickly replace with his mouth, and Wendy struggled against her soft fabric restraint, dying to hold Sam's head to her breasts as he took them into his mouth one at a time, teasing them with his tongue and his teeth until Wendy was about ready to scream with the tension building up within her.

With a teasing smile, Sam released the shirt trapping her hands, and kissed the words of mock punishment away before they could leave Wendy's lips. It was incredible to feel skin against skin. To get the sensual slide of flesh sliding against aroused flesh. Sam continued to kiss her as he felt her hands running along his bare back, feeling the muscles that bunched there as he moved against her.

Wendy was really surprised. She had known he was well built from seeing him, and feeling it under his clothes, but somehow feeling his naked back somehow made it all that much more impressive. He was built like satin over steel, and every muscle rolled and undulated with his sensuous movements.

For a long time, Sam and Wendy revelled in this embrace, kissing one another until only the need for oxygen could pull them apart. But the fiery need between them was building and Sam could no longer ignore the pull of Wendy's aroused sent. He kissed her on each cheek, then sliding down her body he kissed a burning trail down her flesh, between her heaving breast and over her quivering abdomen.

Wendy was sure that the intense sensation of Sam's mouth on her body would drive her insane with need, but when his hands slid down, following the heated trail of his lips, she had to redefine her scale. Heat blossomed throughout her entire body, radiating out to ever extremity and she couldn't contain the low pitched moaned that slipped for her lips as his hand cupped and kneaded her aching breasts.

Sam felt his heart beat a little harder at Wendy's response to his touch, he ached for release, but the sublime torture was so worth while. He was hard and full and the further down Wendy's body he drew, the harder his blood seemed to pump in his veins. He placed a kiss on each of her hips, stopping briefly to rub his cheek against the downy softness that was her navel. As he dragged his hands down her body, he hooked his fingers into her panties and with a gentle tug, pulled them after his scorching trail of kisses.

Sam ran his tongue down the soft flesh of her inner thigh and smiled as she moaned more boldly now. He spent time placing kisses down one of her long legs until he was kneeling at the foot of her bed. Then he looked from his new vantage point as Wendy lay in a wanton sprawl on the bed, every limb feeling like it was made entirely of rubber. Sam ran both of his hands back up her stunningly long legs until he had a firm hold of her hips.

With an effort fuelled by hunger, he gave a sudden sharp pull, moving Wendy half way down the bed so that her legs hung off the edge of the bed. Wendy's surprised protest was quickly silenced as Sam leant forward placing warm wet kisses on the inside of her inner thighs. As he kissed his way up each thigh, he splayed his large hand over the expanse of her navel and hips holding her still.

He looked for a moment at her feminine folds, framed in a neatly trimmed cascade of dark gold curls. She was swollen and her body glistened with her own arousal and Sam found the whole vision more erotic than he had ever expected. With infinite gentleness, Sam ran his tongue up over the heated flesh and as he did so, Wendy arched wildly, her head burying deeper into her mattress.

Sam smiled to himself, a smug self satisfied smile, before her proceeded to repeat the action this time putting a little more pressure into the stroke so that it split her folds and ran over her swollen clit.

Wendy was convinced she was melting. The heat from Sam's mouth was incredible as he swapped between long deep strokes and short teasing licks. Grabbing roughly onto her hips, he pulled her further towards him, so that she had to widen her legs more to accommodate his massive shoulders. This also meant that he had greater access to her most feminine of flesh and the sensation of his touch, finally did make Wendy scream.

She held her injured arm over her eyes, as if somehow she could shield herself from the bright sparks that were beginning to form in her mind, while her other hand tangled deep into Sam's lush hair. Sometimes she wasn't sure if she was encouraging him or trying to pull him away, as the overwhelming sensation built in her, running through her like electricity.

Sam revelled in the incredible taste of her. She was as sweet to kiss here as she was on her full lips and he loved her response. His gut twisted taught in need and his full erection pushed painfully against the confines of his jeans, but he pushed everything but Wendy's pleasure out of his mind, has he licked and sucked her.

Wendy felt the tension building in her limbs. This was so far beyond anything she had every experienced she wasn't even entirely sure what was happening within her. Her body tightened like a spring, coiling dangerously, desperate for release. It was almost hard to tell if this was pleasure of it was pure hell, put she was in Sam's control now and all she could do was hold on as he licked and stroked every rational though out of her mind.

Sam couldn't mistake Wendy's tension and his male ego was singing with joy as he felt her writhing beneath his hands. He knew how to draw her even higher and how to push her over and he knew that this was a delicate balance. When he felt every abdominal muscle clamp under his hands, he quickly shifted his grip until his hands were under Wendy's hip so he could tilt her upwards exposing more of her flesh to his insatiable hunger. With two sharp strokes of her tongue, she was lost, her moans erupting from her throat. A truly honest response to a sensation that over whelmed her.

Wendy had been building until she was nearly weeping, but then she felt Sam shift her slightly and it was his final stroke that set her free. The sensation of falling followed the most delicious heat that started in her belly and flowed out over every cell in her body. It was a sensation that was almost overwhelming to her senses and certainly nothing that she had experienced before.

As he watched Wendy's lax body push through a series of rather intense aftershocks, Sam took a moment to strip of his jeans, his penis bursting gratefully free. In another heart beat he had suited up in a condom and with single minded purpose he descended on Wendy, scooping her up in his arms like she was a rag doll.

Wendy was only just recovering, when she felt Sam's arms pick her up and pull her back up towards the head of the bead. It was a feet of strength that truly amazed her, because she must have been an absolute dead weight in his arms. But all thought fled as she felt Sam cover her body with his own, his thick hard manhood spearing her almost brutally in his haste.

At the sudden intrusion of his cock, Wendy's entire body contracted around Sam, her nails even digging into his back and drawing small crescents of blood. The pain of it only added to Sam's pleasure as he rejoiced in the molten velvet grip of Wendy's sheath. He held incredibly still for a moment, allowing her to come to terms with the size and feel of him in her body. He also wanted to feel ever shuddering convulsion that was running through her.

Sam kissed Wendy in a move so tender in comparison to his shocking invasion. She could taste herself on her lips and the realisation sent another shudder through her over sensitised body. With infinite slowness and control, Sam drew out of her, sliding back almost to the point of withdrawing. He heard Wendy whimper in disappoint and he couldn't help smiling as he kissed her soundly.

He moved back into her with the same controlled slowness until he was buried to the hilt, feeling every twitch and muscle spasm along his engorged shaft. To encourage him to move faster, Wendy moved her hips, grinding herself relentlessly against him. When she felt his hand close over her hips, she kissed him harder, wrapping her long legs around his waist.

Sam had been trying to take his time. He had been trying to savour these moments with this beautiful woman, but her movements were driving him to the edge of his control and he could sense that any moment now he would erupt without taking her with him.

With determined skill, Sam increased the pace of his thrusts pushing into Wendy's wet heat and feeling it encompass him like a fist. It felt sublime to be inside her, to feel her breasts push into his chest as she arched into each of his thrusts. She was so exquisitely beautiful in her abandon, with her golden hair splayed out on her pillow like a halo.

Sam felt Wendy's legs tighten around him, she felt her fingers digging into his shoulders as she arched desperately into him. More importantly though he felt the internal tension as her muscles clamped around him, desperately seeking the release that Sam was very close to succumbing to.

Sucking air in through gritted teeth Sam pistoned into her even faster, reaching for the sublime sensation of release. When he felt Wendy shudder for the second time, and release a moan deep in her throat, Sam abandoned his control and surged into her, his orgasm radiating out from the pit of his stomach to shake every taught muscle right down to the bone.

Breathing hard, Sam let his weight drop gently down on Wendy and was thrilled when her arms wrapped around him possessively. He felt her shudder around him as she was taken with several after shocks and he smiled into the curve of her neck, pushing his lips into the sensitive flesh there.

After a few deep breaths, Sam pushed himself up on his elbows, smiling down into Wendy's face. Her half lidded eyes watched him as he rained kissed down over her face, and with gentle fingers, she pushed his damp hair away from his eyes.

Sam pulled out of her, and moved to her side, gathering her into his arms as he went. She came willingly snuggling down into the firm hollow of his shoulder. Sam loved this time after sex. He couldn't understand the stereotypical presumption that all men wanted to do was roll over and go to sleep. These tender moments after sex where as important to Sam as foreplay and the act itself.

"Do you feel better?" he asked quietly, pulling the covers up over their cooling bodies so that Wendy wouldn't get cold.

"How could I not." replied Wendy, her words some what smothered by the muscle on Sam's chest.

He smiled broadly, pushing his hand into her hair and tipping her head back, so that he could feast on her mouth just one last time.

"Think you could manage some more sleep?" he finally asked breaking there kiss and touching her nose with his.

"If you stay here with me…maybe." She replied and despite everything that had gone on between them there was still and edge of fear to her words.

"I'm not going anywhere." Sam affirmed and he punctuated his point by banding strong arms around her, filling her with confidence that no matter what might come after her, he would be there to protect her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**290 Days**

**Spokane, Washington – 3:30 pm**

Dean slipped in behind the wheel of the Bronco, sorely missing the familiarity of his Impala. He glanced up briefly to the floor where Wendy's apartment was, before pushing the column shift into drive and pulling out into the mid afternoon Spokane traffic.

Dean had told himself that he needed to go out and get some hunting supplies, but the truth of it was, he just needed a bit of time to himself so that he could work through everything that was going on.

He drove through Spokane, watching the people on the street go about their daily lives. Sometimes, Dean would see people and envy them their ignorance, yet if he had to be truly honest with himself, he was glad he knew the truth of what was really out there.

After a few blocks past some apartment buildings and some beautifully manicured parks, Dean caught sight of the steeple of a small sandstone church, nestled on the corner opposite the park. Dean changed lanes and headed over, pulling the Bronco over across the street from the church.

As he looked at the structure spying the doors wide open, he figured that this was as good a place as any to stock up on his supplies of holy water. You had to love the Catholic Church for their basins of holy water stashed conveniently right by the door and Dean was certain that the Our Lady of Prague Catholic Church would be no exception. It was the hunting equivalent to 'drive thru'.

Holy water wouldn't work on all demons, but it would sure cause havoc to lesser demons and if Sam was right, then it would be ten times more effective on the pack than any hot stick that Wendy would carry.

Dean slipped out of the truck, pulling two empty plastic bottles from the lock box welded to the tray of the truck. He stashed the bottles in the pockets of his jacket and then jogged across the road, dodging the traffic to the steps of Our Lady of Prague.

This church was not large; in fact it stood in the shadows of the building that stood behind and beside it, although one side of the chapel would have great views of the park across the street.

Dean made his way up the stairs and then paused for a moment at the door, allowing his eyes a second to become acclimatised to the darker environment inside. There were a few people praying in the pews towards the front, but mostly the church was empty.

Dean stepped through the door and in keeping with his experience, there was a large stone vessel just inside the door, full nearly to the brim of the holy liquid that the older Winchester was after.

Pulling one of the bottles from his pocket, Dean pulled off the lid and plunged the bottle into the water. He looked up to study the altar as he waited for the water to fill. Dean wasn't a particularly religious person, which was perhaps surprising given his line of work, but he could always appreciate churches.

Most churches had been built by true artisans, people, who like Dean, enjoyed working with their hands. Dean could look at the altar and the stone masonry that surrounded it and appreciate the skill and dedication required to do it. He could look at the pipe organs with their walls of shiny brass pipes and appreciated the fine engineering required to create those perfect sonorous tones. He could look at the mosaics and frescoes on the floors and ceilings and be awed by the patience required for those pursuits.

Very few other buildings blended the work of so many artisans together, at least not like a church could. If he wasn't quite so cynical about religion, Dean thought that he would actually enjoy going into churches just to check them out.

Our Lady of Prague was no exception, although it's crowning glory was not stone masonry or fancy mosaic floors, it was in fact the stained glass windows that took up nearly the entire back wall behind the altar.

They were immense, in classic shapes of rosettes and gothic arches, in the centre the virgin Mary stood, with children kneeling in subjugation at her feet. She held her hands wide as if she could almost embrace the whole congregation and her face was so beautiful in its serenity, that it was really drawing Dean's attention.

Having finished with one bottle, Dean screwed on the cap and returned it back to his pocket, before repeating the process with the second bottle. Again as he worked his eyes were drawn back to the mass curtain of coloured glass behind the altar. It was truly a work of art, but as he studied its detail, he realised that artist was not only exceedingly talented, but also had something of a sense of humour, cunningly hiding small parable stories and images in the details surrounding the main figures.

Dean returned the second bottle to his jacket once he had finished, but instead of turning around and heading back to the Bronco, which is exactly what he had intended to do, Dean found himself slipping into one of the darkened pews at the back of the church. The wooden seat was narrow hard and generally uncomfortable, but he was so taken by the window that he just had to stop and admire it for a little longer.

To get more comfortable Dean leant his weight forward, resting his elbows on the back of the pew in front. Because the church was generally only illuminated by candles, the darkened interior meant that the beautiful windows seemed to glow with almost an internal illumination.

As he sat studying the windows, the conversation that he had with Sam the previous night began to play through his head. Dean had filled his day with as much activity as he could so that he could try and stop his mind from doing exactly that. But it would seem that he could not stop it, and this was as good a place as any to think through some of the things that had been plaguing him for a long time.

He had to admit himself, his response to the Doc was something that he hadn't really experienced before. He wasn't a creature prone to developing attachments. The nature of the job didn't really allow for it. He had learnt that the hard way from Cassie and pretty much vowed to himself that he would never let it happen again. But he had; only this time it was worse.

Maybe Sam was right? Maybe there was something more sinister to the Doc. The very idea made Dean feel sick to his stomach, but he forced himself to entertain the possibility. Everything that Sam had said had a kind of logic to it, except motive. If the Doc was working for another Demon and was manipulating the way Dean felt about her, what was the reason, what did she have to gain?

Dean looked up briefly, wishing for a moment, that the women with her benevolent face on the stained glass, illuminated by the afternoon sun, had answers for him. He wished for the kind of piece of mind that she so obviously had, but he wasn't going to get it, sitting in a church thinking about it.

Dean was a man of action and the only way he was going to get any sort of resolution to this was to confront it. He would need to see the Doc, to look into her face and ask her the really hard questions, and he would do it with Sam there. They would do it together until they were satisfied.

It troubled him that this would mean going back on his vow to not have any contact with the Doc, but leaving this unresolved was poisoning him from the inside out and he couldn't work like that. Once he had a satisfactory answer, he would say goodbye to her for all time, but until then, he would need to see her, to look into her eyes as he asked her to answer the questions that were plaguing him.

Dean knew intuitively that Sam would not be happy about this, but he would just have to deal with it. Once this job was done, Dean would arrange a meeting with the Doc and they would finish this once and for all.

With a plan now galvanised in his mind, Dean stood and walked on almost silent feet out of the church. He stood in the doorway for a moment squinting against the bright afternoon sun, then he jogged down the steps and made his way through the traffic to where the Bronco was parked.

**

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**

Spokane, Washington – 5:17 pm

Hannah was never more thankful to see a Holiday Inn in her life. She saw the sign to the Spokane Valley Holiday Inn and rather than try and battle the inner city traffic right on the verge of rush hour, she decided that this was close enough to the heart of the city to suit her needs, combined with the fact that she was utterly exhausted.

In the last week, Hannah had pretty much driven single handed across the country and she felt every singly mile in her aching joints and her sandpaper eyes. Today alone she had driven over 300 miles, and while she probably could have done it faster, she was worried by the fact that she had nodded off several times along the way.

The Inn itself was a very tidy establishment, in the cookie cutter style of all Holiday Inn's, but it had rooms with whirlpools so Hannah was happy to organise for one. Parking Charlotte in the underground parking bay, she carried her bags through the foyer and gratefully made her way to her room.

The suite was a stylishly decorated tidy affair, with a balcony that overlooked the shopping district of Spokane and a deep bath set in the corner. Hannah dumped her bags on the King sized bed and before she even took off her coat, she dropped in the plug and turned on the hot water faucet to fill the tub.

Looking around the room, Hannah tried to suppress the fears that had been dogging her throughout the trip. She had to believe that the brothers were in Spokane, that they were still here and that somehow she would be able to find them.

During her rest stops on the trip, Hannah had tried again to connect with Dean, but without any success. She prayed that didn't mean that he had gotten further away from her or worse…that something had happened to him already.

But her inability to pick up on anything from the brothers had left her wondering how she would find them. Spokane wasn't a massive city like New York or Los Angeles, but it would be big enough to hide the Winchester's, particularly as they didn't want to be found.

As Hannah worked through the problem in her mind, the only option really open to her was to find Rimmon. If she could find the demon, then no doubt, sooner or later she would find Sam and Dean. She just hoped for John Winchester's sake that it was sooner rather than later.

John's energy had receded in her consciousness until it was only a tiny blip on her psychic radar. She understood that he had gone into a sort of power save mode to try and extend his existence in this realm for as long as he possibly could. The fact that as a spirit he could do that, spoke volumes about the man.

He was obviously incredibly disciplined and had a tenacity the likes of which Hannah had never seen in any other living or dead spirit. The way he held on to her, clearly showed the depth of feeling that he still had for his sons, but Hannah had learned that he was a hard man. He had pushed her, always quietly expecting her to do more and she wondered what life with him would have been like.

She had experienced enough of Dean's memories to realise that John Winchester had been a driven man, unwaveringly focused in his pursuit of the demon that killed his wife. Dean had understood that his father had loved them, but not exactly in the conventional sense. His father had shown his love, by honing his boys into weapons, preparing them for the realities that so many in the world were ignorant of, pushing them to be keen and perfect hunters. It was a hard love…but love none the less.

Hannah stripped off her clothes, laying them haphazardly over the back of the large chairs that sat around a small table. Switching on the radio, she walked over to the tub and eased herself in to the awaiting warmth. A bath like this was in some respects completely and totally indulgent, but Hannah realised that she would have to rest and recuperate before she attempted to find this demon. If she was not at her fighting best, she would leave herself vulnerable and if Sam's experience in Reno had taught her anything, it was that she was going to have to be on her guard the whole time.

**

* * *

**

Spokane, Washington – 7:39 pm

Sam sat on the freshly made bed, watching Wendy move around her room. She moved between closets and draws pulling out a fresh change of clothes and Sam watched her lithe body move beneath that towel that threatened to slip away from her at any moment.

Every time she caught his eye, she smiled warmly at him, and he was sure that he was grinning like a lunatic right back at her. They had spent the afternoon, blissfully wrapped up in each other and when it had been time to get up, he had taken her to the shower and made love to her again revelling in an intimacy that had been missing from his life for a very long time.

As she floated by him again, gifting him with a brief flash of her long golden legs he reached out and caught her by the wrist.

"Listen" he said trying to make his tone even and reasonable "Maybe you should stay in tonight and let Dean and I handle this."

Wendy stopped, pulling herself to her full height as she studied his face. "Sam" she said firmly "I have to go; these things scares me to death, but if I don't face it, I will live my life in constant fear and I can't do that."

Sam gripped her wrist a little tighter formulating all of the arguments as to why she should stay, but before he could speak a loud knock sounded at the front door.

Wendy looked up slightly startled pulling her wrist out of Sam's hold. The younger Winchester stood, liking the way that Wendy's body seemed to meld right into his; an alignment of limbs that rarely happened for him with his height.

"That'll be Dean." Sam said, cupping Wendy's face and gently brushing a kiss over her lips before he pushed past her to go and get the door.

Sam checked the peep hole to confirm that it was Dean and upon seeing his brother on the other side, opened the door and let him in.

"Hey" said Dean as he walked into the room balancing two pizza boxes in one hand, and a bag of shopping in the other. "I bought food."

"You ok?" asked Sam as he watched Dean dump both of his loads on the kitchen counter.

"Yeah…fine." replied Dean absently, flicking over the lids of the two pizza boxes "Pepperoni with extra cheese and a Supreme no anchovies. Hurry up, lets eat while they're still hot."

Dean looked up at Sam, who had been studying him and returned the scrutiny.

"Where's Wendy?" Dean asked, taking mental note of Sam's damp hair and change of clothes.

"Hey Dean" said Wendy gliding in to the kitchen past Sam. "Thanks for picking up something to eat, I'm starving."

"Hey" said Dean, watching as she came in and reached up into the cupboard for some plates.

He studied her for a long moment as she bustled around him in the kitchen, then he looked back at Sam. As he studied both of them, he knew what had happened between them in his absence.

It wasn't just the fact that they were both fresh out of the shower, or the fact that they were deliberately not trying to look at each other and failing miserably. There was an intimacy that had been established between them that changed the way they moved around each other. When Wendy had come into the kitchen, her body had grazed Sam's in a way that was entirely too familiar.

When she handed Sam a pile of plates and some napkins, their hands stroked each others in an almost unconscious caress. With anyone else they may have gotten away with it, but Dean had years of training to look for the subtle difference, to detect the things that had changed out of the ordinary, and as he watched the pair, he knew all of his suspicious were correct.

Picking up the two pizza boxes he smile broadly at Sam. It wasn't like his brother to dive right in with a girl, but in a way Dean was glad that he had. Of all the girls that he could have chosen, Sam could have done a hell of a lot worse than Wendy, and if it made them both happy, Dean sure as hell wasn't about to rain on their parade, even if their timing was terrible.

Sam studied Dean as he walked past, smiling maniacally with some inner secret.

"What?" questioned the younger Winchester, already suspecting that his brother had worked it all out.

"Nothing" replied Dean his face changing from mischief to total innocence in less than a heart beat. "Let's eat."

The trio settled down around the table, and Dean found it highly amusing how careful Wendy and Sam were now being around each other. He thought for a moment that perhaps he should let them know that he had worked it out, but to see their efforts to appear as they had before was just too damn amusing.

"So" said Sam, helping himself to a slice of the Pepperoni "What did you do while you were out?"

Dean smiled at his brother, a dazzlingly Cheshire cat smile and he lent back in his seat as both Wendy and Sam waited for him to answer.

"I went and picked up some supplies and then I went to the library, see what else I could find out about Rimmon."

"And?" prompted Sam, watching his brother carefully. Dean had the look of a cat who was just about to pounce.

"And…nothing." said Dean nonchalantly "There isn't really anything more on the guy. Rimmon was quite a common name in the Hebrew bible covering everything from a pomegranate to a Babylonian storm god. Milton was the first one to identify him with the fallen, but there could be some cross overs between our demon and a Near Eastern demi god known as Hadad."

"I'm assuming you looked this guy up too?" questioned Sam, between mouthfuls of pizza.

"Of course." replied Dean, wiping his chin with a paper napkin "But you're not going to like it."

"Why?" quizzed Sam with a side ways glance at Wendy who was listening in fascinated silence

Dean smiled with an element of acceptance "Well Hadad was a lightning god with close parallels to Zeus."

"You mean like Mount Olympus, married to Hera, virgin raping Zeus?" said Wendy, the colour draining from her face slightly as Dean nodded in affirmation.

"So what does that mean?" she said desperately looking at Sam, her eyes begging for reassurance.

Sam laid a gentle hand on Wendy's arm to comfort her, completely oblivious that Dean was watching everything that he did. "It doesn't really mean anything." He consoled his eyes softening slightly at the apparent fear on her face "But sometimes the mythology can give us an insight into their character, their motives…"

"Their weapons of choice." interjected Dean as he helped himself to another slice of pizza.

When he looked up, Wendy had turned wide eyes on to him as had Sam, but instead of the shock and growing fear that was on Wendy's face, Sam just looked pissed.

"What?" he said feeling suddenly defensive of Sam's accusatory look "We can't sugar coat it."

"No" said Wendy looking between the two brothers. "If I am going out with you tonight, I need to know this stuff."

Dean looked to Sam, and he could see in his brother's eyes that they shared the same opinion about that.

"Whoa, whoa Wendy." said Dean, realising that he would have to be the voice of reason "You're not coming out tonight with us."

Wendy sat up tall in the seat, her face changing from fear to incredulity as her spine stiffened "What?" she said sharply "Why not?"

"Well for starters it's far too dangerous" said Dean

"Well if it's too dangerous now, why did you take me out earlier?" argued Wendy.

Dean leant forward on the table trying to appear reasonable as he spoke.

"Well in the daylight we have the advantage of better vision. At night, things could be on top of us before we realise it. We can't be constantly worrying about you."

"By that logic" said Wendy, leaning forward on the table also "Wouldn't another set of eyes be better?"

Dean sighed running his hand through his hair and looking to Sam for support, but he could already see on Sam's face, a strong desire not to get involved.

Wendy looked at Dean, her face hardening with determination "Please Dean" she said quietly but firmly "I need to do this."

Again Dean looked to Sam for some support, but his brother just shrugged and Dean couldn't help rolling his eyes slightly…one afternoon and Sam was already whipped!

Dean held Wendy's gaze steadily, testing her resolve. "You ever fired a gun?"

"Sure" said Wendy unflinching "mostly tranquiliser guns though."

Again Dean sighed "Close enough." He straightened his body, looking at her with penetrating eyes. "Now you have to do what Sam and I say when we say it. Even if it sounds crazy, just do what we ask. Is that understood?"

"Absolutely" said Wendy nodding solemnly.

"And if I say run like hell…?" questioned Dean, his eyebrow raising up high in his hair line.

"I run like Jesse Owens." She finished for him.

"Alright" said Dean "Let's get to it then."

Both brothers grabbed a last slice of pizza, before closing the boxes and putting the left overs in the fridge.

The trio all grabbed their coats and headed out into the night.

**

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**

Spokane, Washington – 8:20 pm

Hannah pressed the snooze button again as the alarm clock that she had set for herself leapt to life with the combined audio fury of the radio and an obnoxious high pitched beeping. She had soaked in the bath for nearly an hour, then she had let herself sleep for another two. But as she felt her body's reluctance to wake from sleep, she wondered if that had been the best idea.

Rolling over Hannah lay on her back in the dark and shut her eyes, doing some mental exercises to focus her mind. She forced herself to become very aware of her physical presence, methodically going through and consciously reaching out to every limb. She found this a reassuring practise just prior to shedding the physically body and concentrating on the gifts of her mind.

She made certain to take note of the smell of the hotel room with its subtle sent of cleaning fluid and ozone from the conditioned air. She could hear the muted mumble of the television in her neighbour's room, and she could feel the stiff almost starched quality of the fresh linens on her bed. Once she had checked each sense off, she felt more and more comfortable to pull away from her physical form and send her mind out searching.

Hannah had only ever done this before with the distinctive psychic signatures that were inherent with a grimoire. It was what gave her such an instinctual internal compass when it came to finding the books of power, but she had to figure that the seeking process would have to be the same.

She had never in her life gone actively seeking a demon, but she knew intimately how they felt against her consciousness. Every time she had been exposed to a demon, she got the same dirty oily feeling in her mind. They were like miasmas of malicious energy and if she could find that…then she would find her demon. The trick was not alerting the demon to her presence and she thought long and hard on that as she centred all of her thought processes to the task at hand, and sent her senses out into the night.

At first Hannah felt the people in the hotel, a brief flare of life force in her mind and whether their emotional state was happy or sad; in every instance it was completely human. She had learnt over time that Demon's felt almost alien to her conscious mind. Hannah would use human emotion to try and quantify the feeling, but the simple expression of rage and hate were paltry in comparison to what it really felt like.

Hannah's consciousness continued to spread out over Spokane, like a massive mental spider's web, she felt each life that she touched, but she focused on the overview rather than the individual. In her mind she visualised liked a satellite photo of Spokane, and it helped her to distance herself from the plights of every human that she touched in her search.

In her mind she made the imagined satellite image zoom out and was amazed to see spots of light on the mental map. It looked like the city from a plane a night, but instead of each light representing a house or an apartment, these were people just going about their daily lives.

Hannah studied the map, running psychic fingers over it, searching for that particular quality that would let her know where the demon was. In her methodical academic way, she had spit her mental map into grids and was quartering and searching each segment of the grid. As time slipped past her, she was growing more and more concerned that perhaps the demon was already vanquished and the brothers had moved on.

As doubt intruded into her mind, the visual image that she held there faded slightly and lost definition, so with a discipline born of years of academic study, she pushed aside all of her emotional responses and simply searched.

For a moment Hannah passed over a black spot, and had she been moving faster, she may well have missed it, but this area wasn't just black, it was blank; a complete void of any living thing. That in itself wasn't that unusual, but as she studied it with her minds eye, it was a perfect circle, in an area that was burning with life signs. It almost looked as though someone was blocking just that area from prying eyes. This was no natural occurrence, but a deliberate shield.

Hannah used her gifts to focus down on this area. She made no attempt to try and breach it, but she rubbed against it with her consciousness, getting a sense of how it felt and tunning her internal compass to seek out that very feeling.

The snooze alarm blared again to life, snapping Hannah's consciousness back to her physical surroundings. Immediately she did the quick mental check, making certain that her physical senses were picking up everything that they had before she had begun.

She reached over and turned on the bed side lamp, moving quickly to the table where she had opened the tourist map of Spokane that had been on the dresser. She studied the image on the paper, almost identical to the mental image that she had held in her mind.

Brushing fingertips over the map, she let her hand move to where she had found the blank space. Surprisingly, it wasn't too far from where the hotel was, and she was grateful, but as she looked at it closely, she realised with a sense of dread, that it centred on the railway tracks, that sat smack in a the middle of fairly densely populated suburbs.

Refolding the map neatly, Hannah shed the bathrobe that she had been wearing and pulled out of her suitcase a pair of black brushed cotton slacks and a black cashmere sweater, putting them on quickly. Then she unzipped her suit bag and pulled from the hanger a dark green velvet double breasted jacked that she pulled on and buttoned up.

Finally she pulled out the Browning pistol that she now habitually carried and slipped it into the waist band of her pants, pulling her jacket over it to conceal it easily. Hannah retrieved the map and her driving gloves off the table and headed out banishing the fears that still nagged at her.

**

* * *

**

Spokane, Washington – 8:22 pm

Dean parked the Bronco in a quiet cul-de-sac, where he could clearly see the railway lines. He knew the pack would be here, somewhere. There were plenty of places to hide, and there were a few trains parked near the maintenance building that would provide perfect cover for the pack.

He glanced briefly at Wendy sitting next to him in the cab and fought back the instinct to handcuff her to the steering wheel. That kind of thing always had a way of backfiring on you. Then he slid out of the truck, moving back to the tray where the lock box sat.

Dean put one hand on the side of the truck and vaulted over so he was standing on the tray in front of the lock box, then he unlocked the padlock. Bobby had crafted this lock box carefully, so that a cursory inspection of the box would show a box full of tools. But once the top shelf was lifted off, all manner of weapons where hidden underneath.

"Sam" said Dean leaning over the edge of the truck with his hand out to his brother "I'll need a hand with this."

Sam curled his long fingers around his brother's wrist and then with a well placed foot on the tyre, he allowed Dean to pull him up into the back of the truck. Once the brothers were balance in the back, they positioned themselves on either end of the lock bocks and holding on to the well concealed handles the lifted the false bottom to get to the arsenal that waited underneath.

Dean pulled out a shot gun and handed it to Wendy, who waited patiently beside the truck. He also handed her a hand full of shells, that she stuffed into the pockets of her jacket. Dean was gratified when Wendy cracked the shot gun with the confidence of a professional to load shells in the awaiting barrels.

He turned back to the lock box and noticed that Sam had already armed himself with a semi automatic at his waste and a long knife attached to his belt. Reaching in Sam pulled out the plastic guns that Dean had put to one corner of the box.

"What the hell is this?" he question, pulling the trigger and watching as a long spray of water shot from the barrel of the gun that would only be recognised as a fake on close inspection.

Dean smiled picking one up and mimicking Sam's action. "The demon dog equivalent of Wendy's hot stick."

"Holy water?" Sam asked, but already knowing the answer.

"No" corrected Dean "A holy water pistol." He punctuated his statement with two quick pulls on the trigger that sent a long spray high into the evening air.

Sam laughed shaking his head at his brother's ingenuity. But he handed one of the guns to Wendy who smiled tightly at him as she accepted it and put in the waste of her jeans. Sam slipped one into his back pocket also and noticed that Dean did the same.

"They won't kill a dog" Dean cautioned more for Wendy's benefit than Sam's "But if you need to back them off, this should work a charm."

Dean kneeled and pulled two wooden boxes from the lock boxes. From one he pulled the colt, casting his eye over its polished, well oiled sides. Then he flipped open the other box and pulled the first six bullets from their velvet case and loaded them into the gun.

Replacing the wooden boxes back in the lock box, Dean finally grabbed a sawn off shot gun and enough shells to fill his pockets, and grabbed a long knife with a wrist sheath, that he slid over his left arm.

Sam and Dean replaced the tray of tools in the lock box then Dean locked it up again before jumping over the side and landing next to his brother. Sam and Dean exchanged a long look, years of hunting making speech unnecessary between them. Then Dean turned his eyes to Wendy, whose face was set in a grim mask of determination.

"Stay between me and Sam" he said holding her eyes with his own "And don't shoot either of us." Dean had said it in a half jest, but Wendy nodded solemnly anyway.

Dean headed off towards the tall wire fence, with the sawn off shot gun hanging from he right hand. Wendy followed close behind, and was comforted by the hand that Sam placed on her shoulder, guiding her forwards.

The trio walked along the fence for a few metres before they found a hole, low to the ground, but big enough for them to crawl through. Dean scooted through nimbly, then covered Wendy and Sam as they both crawled through.

The rail yard was dark and Dean almost wanted to curse. Darkness would be their greatest weakness. He dropped the shot gun in the long grass by the fence and drew out the colt and a flashlight. Then bracing his firing hand with the hand that held the flashlight, he continued out into the rail yard.

Wendy stayed close to Dean, occasionally bumping into his back as she moved to keep in the sphere of light that his flashlight threw out, and she could feel Sam never too far away from her. He too carried a flashlight that he braced against his firing hand and constantly swung it around so that he could see behind them. They crossed the tracks and headed for the stationary train that sat outside the maintenance sheds.

Once they reached the train, Dean pushed his back against it looking back out over the rail yard. In the ink black darkness this was proving to be almost impossible. Their flashlights were almost useless in the broad expanse of the rail yard, for all they knew the pack could already be on top of them.

As if reading his mind, Dean heard Sam's harsh whisper "This is ridiculous Dean. We're sitting ducks out here."

"I know" Dean relented "There has got to be some other source of light around here."

Dean looked around at the train, spotting a service ladder up the side of one of the cars.

"Wait here." He commanded and without waiting for a response, he jogged down to the ladder and pulled himself up so that he could stand on the roof of the train car.

Dean had switched his flashlight off so as not to give away his position to any who might be watching. At the furthest corner of the rail yard he saw a small building where light burned out of the window.

It was probably the security building or where the night watchmen stayed and Dean suddenly had to calculate for another player getting involved in this already difficult hunt.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he looked out over the yard looking at the buildings and overhead at the complex net of wiring that created a net over the whole yard. As his eyes skimmed across the rooves of the buildings, he noticed huge spotlights mounted on the corners. They all lay dormant now, but if they were lit, they would flood the yard with light and make it easier on the trio of hunters.

Dean hurried back down the ladder and made his way back to where Sam and Wendy waited. He announced his arrival with two short bursts of light from his flashlight. He just wanted to make sure that someone didn't get jumpy and accidentally shoot him.

"There are flood lights on all the buildings" he reported in a loud whisper "If we can get them on that would make life a lot easier."

"Dean they might be activated from inside each building. We don't have the time to break into every one." replied Sam.

"There seems to be security station in the shed at the back of the rail yard. If there is a master switch for all the lights, it will be in there."

"Alright" said Sam in a loud whisper "Let's go."

"No. We have to cross the open rail yard to get there and that will leave us exposed. Let me go alone, I can travel faster on my own and I'll be less of a target."

Wendy heard Sam's breath leave him in frustration "Damn it Dean, we should stick together.".

"He's right" said Wendy feeling the need to contribute "If they are hunting like a pack, dividing one away from the group will be playing right into there hands."

"Trust me" said Dean sternly "Letting me go alone is the lesser of two evils, besides this isn't a democracy."

"Dean" said Sam gruffly in consternation.

"Sam, just wait here." Dean's voice brooked no argument "I'll be back"

With that he turned and rapidly disappeared in the darkness, the only sign of his passing was the subtle crunch of the gravel beneath his booted feet. Sam shifted his body, so that he covered Wendy protectively, and they both hunkered in to wait for Dean's return.

**

* * *

**

Spokane, Washington – 8:43 pm

Hannah walked along the tall wire fence, her Maglite illuminating the tracks just beyond. She eyed the razor wire at the top of the fence and ruled out climbing over it. Running her hand along the wire she suddenly felt a small gap in the links. Shining the flashlight on it, she found a tear in the fence. It wasn't very long, be she was sure that she could squeeze herself through.

Using her gloved hand, Hannah held back the fencing as much as she was able and then making her body as small as possible, she pulled herself through the fence, aware that the jagged edges had snared in her hair, her coat and in her pants.

Once through, she stood dusting herself off and looking up and down the tracks. She had driven to the edge of the shield as she had seen it, now all she had to do was follow the tracks to the heart of the shield. She had no doubt that the demon would be at the centre, she just had to get there undetected. Resolved she took off at a steady jog and followed the path of the tracks.

**

* * *

**

Spokane, Washington – 8:45 pm

Dean heard the gravel shift under padded feet before her saw anything. With instincts honed from a lifetime of hunting, Dean knew that the pack was stalking him. He could hear their movements in the dark, and he knew that any moment now he would find himself surrounded.

He couldn't work out how many animals were out there, but he knew that if he allowed them to get around him, there was no way he could fight them all off. Dean dropped to his stomach on the railway lines and stilled himself so he could use his ears to try and pinpoint where there was activity. He certainly heard it directly ahead of him, and to his right, but he couldn't hear anything to his left.

Dean killed his torch allowing his eyes to adjust to the lack of light and then he looked to the left to see if he could make out how far it was to the workshop buildings on that side of the rail yard.

He needed to seek cover and to have something firm against his back if her came under attack and the chances of that seemed to be increasing rapidly. As quickly and as quietly as he was able, Dean got to his feet.

He jogged forward for a few yards and then with a rapid motion he swung left and made a B line to the nearest building. As he got close he saw a large pile of rotting rail sleepers piled up between the maintenance sheds and using them as a makeshift ladder, he propelled himself up the pile and as he reached the top, he launched himself up towards the roof of the shed.

The guttering shimmied ominously as Dean grasped onto it, but with a strength born of desperation he managed to pull himself up onto the roof of the shed. He lay for a few moments, sucking in great lung fulls of air, confident that his high vantage point would keep him safe from the pack prowling in the darkness below.

**

* * *

**

Spokane, Washington – 8:47 pm

"Something's wrong." said Sam, his eyes shifting uneasily from left to right. "He should have gotten them on by now."

Wendy shifted nervously behind Sam, his agitation leeching on to her and making her even more uneasy.

Sam swung his torch looking up and down the rail car. When the long beam of his light fell onto a small alcove in one of the cars near the back of the train, he swung around to look at Wendy, who stood with her eyes wide with fear, her shoulders painfully stiff.

Every instinct made Sam want to go after Dean, he was now convinced that something was wrong, and when he tried to find him with his psychic gifts he could feel nothing, which only confirmed for him that the demon was still here.

Sam took Wendy gently by the arm and led her down to the back of the train and then with gentle hands, he backed her into the alcove. As his did so, Wendy's eyes became alive with understanding. Sam was going to leave her there.

"No" Wendy protested, wriggling in his grip as he pushed her back "Wait a minute Sam, I thought you said we shouldn't split up."

Sam looked at Wendy, his face set in grim shadows as the torch light illuminated his profile. "Wendy" he said, his voice both forceful and pleading "Something is wrong and I have to go check on Dean."

"Then take me with you" said Wendy, her eyes pleading with his.

"I can't risk it" Sam said "It's too dangerous and you are not trained for this sort of thing. Just hang tight Ok; you'll be safe here I promise."

"Please don't leave me." Wendy said trying to keep her voice from breaking. She was torn between wanting to show him she was capable and the building terror that had been growing inside her since they had set foot on the rail yard.

Sam seemed to ignore her, pumping the shot gun and handing it back to her. "If you see or hear something other than me or Dean…shoot it."

"How will I know? I can't see a damn thing out here" she questioned, her eyes growing large and shining crystalline with her tears.

The sheer look of terror on her face, made Sam want to curse himself, but he felt trapped between the need to protect her and the need to make certain Dean was safe. Sam held on to her shoulders, trying to infuse her with some courage.

"I'll call out to you first. Ok?"

With those final words Sam took off into the night, ignoring Wendy's plaintive cries as she called after him.

**

* * *

**

Spokane, Washington – 8:54 pm

Wendy pushed her back into the alcove, thinking that she was now so terrified that she was hearing things. Intellectually she knew that Sam had only been gone for a few minutes, but out here, in darkness as thick as pitch, it had felt like hours. Now she could hear the gravel shifting not far from her hiding spot.

The sound was a light staccato interruption to the silence of the rail yard, and Wendy knew instinctively that it was the fall of padded feet. No human could travel that fast or that quietly. Wendy gripped the shot gun, holding it with fingers turning white as she willed her body not to make a sound.

Her heart pounded like a freight train in her ears yet it couldn't block out the increasing sounds of the paws biting into the gravel. The pack had hunted her down and no doubt, they could now smell her fear. In fact it was probably a better beacon to a pack of dogs than a huge neon sign pointing straight at her hiding place.

Wendy focused on her breathing, realising that she had started to hyperventilate and if she were to pass out or feint then she would be dead. Wendy was smart enough to realise that she couldn't call out to Sam without completely compromising her hiding spot. Her only option for survival was to keep her back to something solid and come out fighting and hope for the cavalry to come to her rescue before it was too late.

On silent feet, Wendy braced her legs apart and re adjusted the shells in her pocked so that she could hopefully pull them out quickly and reload the gun that would probably save her life. She also pulled out Dean's water pistol, and stuck it for easy access in her hip pocket. It would be her last line of defence and she needed it to be within reach.

Ready, Wendy stilled, commanding every nerve and muscle not to move. She didn't realise it, but she was also holding her breath as she waited for the pack to come. She heard the crunch of the gravel, only a few feet from her hiding spot, but this time, there was weight to it.

It sounded cautious and heavy and instantly Wendy thought of the mastiff that had bitten her previously. Before she allowed it to find her, she would fire first and she would fire fast and she prayed that once the pack leader was gone, the others would disperse. Wendy let air rush between her teeth as she stepped out, dropped the shot gun to waist height and pulled the trigger.

Hannah had next to no warning about the shot that was suddenly firing towards her, so the telekinetic blast the flew from her, pushing up the barrel of the gun so that the buck shot went over her head, was almost as much of a surprise to her and it was to her assailant.

Hannah dropped to her knees in the gravel looking up into the wild eyed face of a tall blonde woman. The woman shook uncontrollably with fear, and her eyes had grown to the size of saucers in her face as she took in the sight of Hannah on her knees in the gravel.

There wasn't much time for Hannah to take in anything else about the tall beauty standing in the dark, as she saw a shadow detach for the darkness and go running at the other woman's back.

"Behind you" Hannah croaked and was grateful when the other woman, pivoted quickly and shot at the creature that was mere inches away from her. There was a sharp high pitched whine, before the four legged beast fell unmoving to the gravel.

A heart beat later, Hannah felt more than saw the movement behind her, rolling from her knee onto her hip as something looking almost like a rabid German Sheppard launched itself at her. Hannah lashed out with her Maglite, connecting with the animal's skull with a bone jarring thud. It landed awkwardly in the gravel, but found its feet rapidly, turning to charge at her.

Her gun was suddenly in her hand, and Hannah let loose, pouring bullet after bullet into the charging animal before it fell just short of where she lay on the ground. Hannah pushed up to her feet, eyeing the creature with a sense of horrified awe. Her senses could feel the demonic force, twisting inside the carcass trying to animate the animal, but there was just too much damage to the body for it to achieve its goal.

With a few well chosen words from the Aramaic exorcism rite, Hannah managed to get hold of the demonic force and banish it, but her concentration was broken when she heard the woman shriek from behind her.

**

* * *

**

Spokane, Washington – 8:54 pm

With his long legs, Sam had demolished the distance across the rail yard, scouring the darkness as much as he was able for any signs of either the pack or his brother. As he looked at the buildings on either side, to his left he saw a human silhouette running across the rooves of the work sheds.

"Dean?" he called in a harsh whisper.

The silhouette stopped its progress and turned to look out in the rail yard.

"What the hell Sam?" heard the younger Winchester, so relieved to hear his brother's voice, that he could ignore the vicious bite that it held.

"What are you doing up there?" question Sam, jogging over to the building.

"The yard was crawling with dogs a minute ago" said Dean incredulously "Didn't you see any?"

"No. None" said Sam, as he watched Dean lower himself from the gutter to the top of an oil drum.

"What are you doing out here?" Dean asked, brushing his hands together and pulling the colt out where he had stowed it in his waist band.

"You were taking so long, I figured that you must have gotten into trouble." confessed Sam, matching Dean's watchful eyes as they shifted about in the darkness.

"I was fine" groused Dean irritably "I just had to take a detour. Where's Wendy?"

Before Sam could answer, a shot gun blast tore through the stillness of the night, quickly followed by a second one. The brother's turned instinctively toward the sound.

"Wendy" hissed Sam, as his chest tightened painfully, and before rational thought could kick in, he was running, vaguely aware that Dean was two steps behind.

**

* * *

**

Spokane, Washington – 8:58 pm

The tall blonde had disappeared into the darkness of the alcove and when Hannah turned towards her blood curdling scream, Hannah could understand why. Several large dogs were prowling towards her, their eyes glowing with a preternatural light and their hackles raised high.

With her mind, Hannah reached for them holding their physical form in place as she looked deeper within them. Holding one was certainly no problem for someone who had Hannah's gifts, but holding three was proving to be a lot more difficult.

It was the psychic equivalent of trying to hold on to three slippery eels, and Hannah fought desperately to hang on to them while she focused on the dark presence that she could feel within each.

Hannah braced herself as she raised her voice, anticipating the additional struggle as the words of exorcism dragged the demonic force from within the dogs. As she reached the end of the first passage, she watched as each dog stiffened and then fell on their side like they had been knocked over in a taxidermist's store by careless children.

Turning her eyes towards the woman's hiding place, Hannah watched as the woman emerged from the darkness. Her fear was almost palpable, and Hannah's first instinct was to comfort this unknown stranger.

"Are you alright?" Hannah asked taking a few steps towards the woman who was shacking with almost violent force.

Before the woman could even reply, Hannah felt an impact on her chest that hit her with the force of a sledge hammer. Her psychic autopilot must have been in high gear today because instinctively she managed to shield herself against the intensity of the telekinetic blast, but even shielded, the forced pushed Hannah back several metres, causing her feet to carve out deep furrows in the gravelled earth.

She knew it was Sam, she recognised Sam's touch and looking in the darkness she could feel Sam coming at her with every protective instinct blazing like harsh desert sun. Hannah flicked a quick glance at the woman who stood open mouthed and wide eyed by the train, clearly confused by what she was seeing.

Hannah could pay her no mind though, as Sam aimed his weapon as he ran to the woman's side and fired every bullet he had in his clip at Hannah. In some part of her mind, Hannah felt Dean's presence coming towards her, but the majority of her brain capacity was engaged in catching each of the bullets as they cut through the darkness towards her.

With terror driving her gifts, Hannah grabbed on to each projectile in turn with her mind, but she was not powerful or fast enough to get all of them. She managed to get all the ones aimed at her vulnerable torso and head, but a searing pain in her arm, and a tug on her trousers told her that there had been at least two bullets that she had missed. It was sheer serendipity that they only managed to graze her as the ripped a burning path through her clothing.

Dean had fallen behind Sam as they had sprinted across the rail yard and as his lungs burned for air and his muscles pushed to breaking point, he could only watch as Sam pulled his gun and fired repeatedly at Wendy's attacker. In the darkness he had been unable to see what it was, but as he got closer he could just make out Hannah as she stood unsteadily, letting the dozen of so bullets fall to the gravelled earth before she followed quickly, dropping unsteadily to one knee.

Dean's heart shuddered in his chest at the sight and realisation dawned on him, that his brother had just unloaded and entire clip at the Doc. Ignoring his complaining body, Dean went to run to the Doc's side, but after taking only two steps, he felt some unseen force, flinging him backwards like a rag doll.

Sam pushed Wendy, almost roughly behind him as he kept his eye and his now empty gun trained on the woman that he was convinced had sort to hurt her. To his right, Sam heard Dean's surprised moment of recognition and when he felt his brother run towards her, the power within Sam reached up from his belly like fingers of hot lava and held Dean away from her. Sam's eyes blazed like fire in the darkness, as he focused every destructive impulse he had within him on the woman who was on her knees in the gravel before him.

Sam's need to protect Dean and this tall blonde woman were so strong, that they battered Hannah like a violent passion. She felt Sam restrain Dean and knew instinctively the younger Winchester's fear for his nearest and dearest was wreaking havoc on his control of his powers. He had probably not intended to hit Dean with that much force, but Hannah watched on in horror as Dean was thrown violently backwards.

Despite the fact that she was exhausted, her body near collapse from the rapid expenditure of energy, Hannah tried to cushion Dean's fall with a telekinetic burst of her own as he went sprawling backwards into the gravel.

"You stay away from them." snarled Sam, taking two menacing steps towards her.

Hannah could feel Sam reaching for his reservoir of power and she knew that if he were to unleash it, she would not be able to defend herself. The reality that Sam was probably about to kill her made Hannah's blood run cold and fear the likes of which she had never known engulfed her.

In the back of her mind, she felt the darkness that she contained within her stir in protest. She felt the strong survival instinct of the evil entity pounding at her conscious mind, but she quelled it, disciplining her thoughts to silence it so that she could focus all of her attention on the problem. Her logical mind snapped into play, calming the cacophony of noise that was going on in her head and dilating time so that she could reason out her best course of action.

Hannah was pretty certain that Sam was not a cold blooded killer, even as the power within him pushed his moral limits a bit, she had faith that he was not a killer. He would kill her to protect Dean and the girl, so her only option was to make herself appear as least threatening as possible.

Hannah linked her fingers behind her head, ignoring the biting pain of the bullet graze on her arm and lay down in the gravel, her face down in the dust. It was the most submissive posture that she could conceive of and she prayed that it would cause Sam to think before her unleashed the considerable reserves of power that throbbed within him.

"Sam! Hold your fire God damn it." cried Dean as he got to his feet and hurried over towards his brother. He had every intention of restraining his brother, but as he moved closer he sensed movement to his right and in one smooth motion he bought the colt up a fired at the dog that had emerged like a phantom from the darkness.

At the sound of the shot, Sam turned also, directing all of the energy that he had primed to use on Hannah, on the attacking pack that was launching in to do violence as the humans fought amongst themselves. Sam caught the animals in mid attack, their bodies suspended in the air as if someone had suddenly pressed the pause button on the remote.

Their lips were curled back in hideous snarls and their eyes were fine points of hatred spearing in the darkness. Not wanting to take any chances, Dean fired off several more shots from the colt, gratified to see their bodies shudder at the force and fill with a strange internal light that forced the oily dark presence out of each animal's body.

The carcasses of the dogs fell to the ground with a loud thud, and instinctively Dean and Sam regrouped, putting there backs together and scanning the darkness for any more of the pack.

Even from her position on the ground and with her psychic fatigue battering at her consciousness, Hannah could feel the shift in the energy around them. Rimmon was on the move, and the further away he got, the less substantial the shield on the area was. Hannah could feel him slipping into the darkness, leaving a small number of minor demons to protect his retreat.

"Dean" Hannah said cautiously from the ground "Rimmon is getting away."

She watched from her vantage point as Sam's large booted feet came toward her, and she heard the distinctive sound of his gun being reloaded as he walked.

"Yeah?" he questioned harshly pointing the gun at her head "How do you know that?"

Hannah wanted to scream out; rage, pain and desperation shredding that last of her patience.

"Reach out with you mind Sam." She instructed evenly "I bet like me you can now feel the surrounding area. Rimmon was blocking us, but now that shielding is falling away and that's the only way I can explain it."

Dean said nothing; he just looked at Sam with a question in his eyes.

Sam did as she suggested, and she was right. He could now feel the entire rail yard, he could feel the animal life, the people living near by, but most concerning of all, he could feel the night watchmen coming their way. And just to make matters worse, they had called the police, who, no doubt, would be there any minute.

Dean heard the booted footsteps coming towards them before Sam did, and swung around, aware that he only had two shots in the colt left.

"No!" commanded Sam harshly, and with a need to spare these men's lives for merely doing their jobs he sent out a push for them to sleep. It was hard, because they were alert and their adrenaline was pumping, but so was Sam's, so his mental suggestion was sent with the force of a punch from a heavy weight boxer.

Two bodies fell to the ground and Dean couldn't help but look back at his brother, a clear look of concern on his face.

"Are they…." he asked but before he could finish Sam interrupted him.

"No" he said harshly, his attention centred completely on Hannah "I just put them to sleep, but we have to get out of here, the police are on their way."

"Sam, let the Doc up" commanded Dean coming over to stand next to his brother.

"Dean" Sam replied never allowing his gun to waver away from the back of the Doc's head "We have to take care of this, don't you see, she is hunting us."

"Sam" said Dean, the shock clear in his voice "This is the Doc, we are not shooting her."

Dean was looking at his brother now, like he was someone unknown to him. His face was set in grim determination and his eyes still glowed with the power running through him. Just to be in this situation made Dean feel sick to her stomach, but he could see Sam's resolve, so he made no sudden movements towards his brother, fearful that it might be just the thing to tip Sam over the edge.

"She was going to hurt Wendy" said Sam, his voice filled with a kind of icy rage.

"No" said Wendy, moving away from the train and taking hold of one of Sam's arms. She had been so quiet that Dean had almost forgotten that she was there.

"No" repeated Wendy trying to divert Sam's attention away from the intensity that he had focused on the woman on the ground. "She was helping me."

"Sam" said Dean laying a restraining hand over his brother's arm "Listen to her."

Sam turned to look at his brother and two sets of stubborn eyes locked over the Doc's prone body.

"What is she doing here Dean?" he questioned through his teeth "By rights she should be on the other side of the country, but she's here and Rimmon is getting away"

"There is an explanation." ventured Hannah, speaking tentatively for the first time.

"Great" snarled Sam "Because I am all ears."

"Sam" said Hannah carefully to keep her voice even despite the growing combination of anger and frustration building within her. "The police are just pulling up. If we don't get out of here now, we are going to have to deal with them."

At her words both Sam and Dean looked up and out over the far side of the rail yard. The telltale sign of blue and red flashing lights could be seen over the tops of the maintenance buildings.

"She's right" said Dean taking a firm grip of his brother's shoulders "We gotta go…NOW!"

Sam looked down briefly at the woman lying on her stomach and then quickly at Wendy, who shifted her weight uneasily from foot to foot as she looked between Sam and where the police would soon be coming.

"Alright" Sam said, grabbing Hannah roughly and dragging her to her feet. Before she had even regained her balance, Sam was propelling her in the other direction. She stumbled and would have fallen, if strong hands hadn't reached out for her.

As soon as Dean touched her, he felt the jolt all the way to his toes. His hands closed over her arm and he pulled her to his chest to balance her. At the contact, Dean's breath slammed out of his lungs, so hard they actually ached in his chest and for a heart beat he locked eyes with her, a moment of shared feeling running between them.

The moment was broken when Sam pushed the gun into her back and physically propelled her down the tracks, with Wendy close behind him. Dean was stunned motionless for a moment. She had missed him, he had felt it. She had ached for him with the same sort of intensity that he had for her…and she had been desperate to find him; and for a woman who indulged in no emotion to excess, that was a huge departure from her character as well.

Dean hurried to catch up with the three others, and they moved at a run down the tracks to where the hole in the fence could be found. Dean retrieved his sawn off shotgun from the long grass. Again he went through the fence first, offering a hand to both Wendy and the Doc as they crawled through then Sam came, still holding the gun on the Doc.

"Where'd you leave Charlotte Doc?" asked Dean, not meeting the woman's eye while he was under Sam's scrutiny.

"North Cook Street" she replied as they congregated awkwardly around the Bronco.

Dean looked to Wendy for direction. "Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah" replied the woman, who looked decidedly pale beneath the harsh yellow light of the streetlamps. "Its maybe three blocks over, heading East."

"Get in the truck" directed Dean opening the passenger door for Wendy. "Sam you cover the Doc in the back ok?"

Sam's gun never wavered, as Dean scooped the Doc up with a strong arm under her legs and deposited her in the back of the pick-up next to the strong box. Sam climbed in shortly after, his back resting on the tale gate, the gun held low so it could not be easily seen.

Dean hurried around the Bronco and slid in the driver's seat. As he started the engine he glanced over at Wendy, who sat staring wild eyed out the windscreen.

"Wendy" Dean said gently, but the woman showed no sign of recognition that he had spoken.

"Wendy" he said slightly louder "You ok?"

Wendy turned her brown eyes on Dean and for a moment they were unfocused and glazed, but then she fixed her pupils on him and nodded biting down on her bottom lip as she did so.

Dean reached out and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, but he knew it was a paltry gesture. The woman was quite obviously traumatised. Dean threw the Bronco into drive and made a sharp U turn, keeping an eye on Sam in the rear view. They had to get away from the rail yard before the police set up a perimeter. Three more blocks east would probably give them the required breathing room.

Dean counted three blocks then turned down Cook Street, spotting Charlotte parked at the end closest to the tracks. Pulling the Bronco up behind the Doc's car, Dean killed the engine and slipped from the cab of the truck.

"Alright" he said as he watched Wendy slip out of the other door "We should be relatively safe here."

Sam had vaulted over the tray of the truck in one easy motion, but the Doc was decidedly less steady on her feet, so Dean reached up and helped her over so that she was standing on the footpath. Then he pushed her against the side of the truck and took two steps away from her.

"Alright talk." he said, his voice harsh, but Hannah could see that there was no venom in his eyes. The gruff voice was more for Sam's benefit than for hers, she was sure of it.

"Ok" said Hannah looking at the three enquiring eyes. "After Oklahoma, I had every intention of just going home for a while, but something happened that I needed to talk to you about. I tried calling, but you wouldn't pick up, so I had to come and find you."

"How did you know to come here?" asked Sam, still pointing the pistol at her.

"I managed to track you to South Dakota and in the cabin, I found some paper with Rimmon's name and some news paper headlines scribbled on it. I figured that you were hunting him, so I got Pat to cross reference the newspaper incidents and it pinpointed Spokane."

"That explains how you got in the city, but why were you in the rail yard?" Sam took another menacing step towards her, ignoring the dark look that Dean was giving him.

"Well I couldn't find you" Hannah said, unable to hide the accusation from her voice "So I figured if I could track the demon, it wouldn't be long before you showed up."

"That's convenient" snarled Sam pushing the barrel of the gun to the side of Hannah's head, hard enough to bruise it "But explain to me why I couldn't track Rimmon?"

"Sam" said Dean laying a restraining hand on his brother's shoulder "Back off."

Burning eyes turned to look at Dean and he was amazed at the barely restrained violence that he could see within them. He felt Wendy shrink back also and spared her a quick glance. Sam followed his brother's eyes and suddenly realised how he must appear to Wendy, who was already out of her mind with fear.

With a conscious effort, Sam lowered the gun and took a step back. The Doc's eyes never left him. They weren't exactly fearful, but more observant, like she expected Sam to snap at any moment.

"I didn't so much as track Rimmon as find the blank spot that his psychic shielding created." Hannah explained, lifting up her head and pulling on the edges of her jacket in a dignified gesture of composing herself. It was such a Doc thing to do, that Dean almost smiled.

"You know what I think?" hissed Sam "I think you're in league with Rimmon or even Beleth and you created just the distraction needed to let that bastard get away."

At Sam's words Hannah's eyes opened wide in genuine surprise.

"What?" she asked incredulously almost tripping over the words "Sam, consider what you're saying…that's preposterous."

As she spoke Hannah turned her eyes towards Dean. She could feel Sam's conviction in what he was saying, but she was wondering if Dean believed that too. When she looked at him, his eyes were hooded and downcast. He would not meet her eyes and that minor thing seared her heart with and unimaginable pain. The brother's were never going to believe her now…she had come all this way, had nursed the spirit of John Winchester the whole time, all for nothing.

Defeat tasted bitter in her mouth and bile crawled up her throat as her insides twisted in a savage knot. Hannah wanted to cry in frustration, but instead her emotions turned into anger and then into rage.

"How dare you." Hannah hissed directing the brunt of her anger at Sam "How dare you even insinuate that. I have lost absolutely everything I have ever loved to a demon and I won't let you stand there and tarnish the memory of my family by suggesting I would ever aid one of those maggots."

As she spoke, her eyes shifted from their stormy grey to molten mercury. There was a fury in them, but even worse, there was a deep seated pain.

"The irony is" she said with a bitter laugh "I came here to help you. But all I can think now is fuck you…fuck the both of you."

With that she turned haughtily on her heel and began to walk away from them. With the reflexes of a well honed hunter, Sam but up his pistol, releasing the safety in one smooth motion.

"Freeze" commanded Sam, his voice sharp in the silence of the night.

Hannah kept walking ignoring Sam's command and posturing. She looked over her shoulder almost tauntingly "If you're going to shoot me Sam…then pull the trigger and be done with it."

Dean looked up horrified, terror ripped through him like an electrical current and he looked at his brother to see Sam's finger waver over the trigger in temptation.

"Wait!" he cried, stepping into the line of fire between Sam and the Doc. He heard Sam utter a curse, but he ignored it. He watched as the Doc stopped in mid step.

"What did you need to talk to us about Doc. What bought you here?" Dean asked desperate to avert how this encounter was destined to end.

Hannah let out a long breath into the night, letting her head drop forward. Then she turned looking back at the trio. The tall woman the boys called Wendy, looked suddenly very much alone as the brothers stood together before her.

"This is what bought me here." Hannah said her voice oddly devoid of any emotion. Then she closed her eyes, pooled all of the energy that she could muster and fed the faint signature of John Winchester.

Next to her, a light began to grow and behind him Dean heard Sam shift uneasily, but he held up his hand in a signal to freeze and was pleased when Sam followed it. The brothers watched as the light grew to the in height and width. Then it started to gain definition, until a humanoid figure could be seen within it. Wendy gasped stumbling backwards away from the Doc. Sam reached out and pulled her into the safety of his arm and she clung to him with white knuckled fear.

The figure beside the doc continued to increase in definition, like someone was sculpting a figure from light. Dean looked between the emerging figure and the Doc, noticing the intense concentration on her face. What she was doing was certainly no easy feet, but Dean continued to watch both intrigued and amazed.

Finally, the features of the figure began to take shape and Dean nearly choked in surprised as he looked into the face of John Winchester.

"Dad?" he uttered almost unconsciously and he heard Sam do the same, with the same awe held in his voice.

"Dad is that really you?" Dean repeated, taking a tentative step towards the visage of his father.

John Winchester smiled at his sons in a gesture so like the one he had given them as he stood before the Demon Gates, that for a moment Dean felt like he had been taken back there.

"He doesn't have enough energy to speak, so he'll have to do so through me and I'm afraid that I can't do this for very long." said Hannah in a tight voice and as if to punctuate the realities of the situation, John's image wavered just slightly.

'_Tell them Hannah, tell them I tried to contact them' _said the voice inside Hannah's head and she resisted wincing as the voice invaded her consciousness.

"He tried to make contact with you Sam, after the demon horde was released, but he couldn't. Something was preventing him." said Hannah, reaching out a putting a hand on the bonnet of the bronco to give herself some support as her energy was steadily leeched from her by the other presence.

"What Dad? What prevented you?" asked Dean, feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears.

"He doesn't know, but he's worried that it means you harm. It's travelling with you and John was unable to find any way around it despite his bond with the both of you" explained Hannah after a moment.

"Bullshit." hissed Sam, pulling Wendy tighter to him "That's all bullshit. Dean she's playing us. She's playing on our love for Dad."

Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam, whose face was twisted into something akin to agony. He understood that, he felt the same thing deep in his gut.

"She's a psychic" persisted Sam "She can make us see whatever she wants us to see."

"How do you think I found Bobby's cabin?" argued Hannah

"You had a connection with Dean" replied Sam "You could have pulled that intel out at any time."

'_John, this is not going well and it is very likely going to get me shot, so if you have something or importance to tell them...now would be a good time."_ said Hannah to the entity in her mind.

If a spirit could sigh, that is exactly what John Winchester did.

'_Tell them that I can't stay here anymore, but tell them I love them and tell them to only trust each other and remind Dean that what I told him at the hospital may still be true.'_

There was a feeling of urgency to the voice in her head, and Hannah tried to get the message that was rapidly fired to her.

'_Wait…What? Where are you going? And what did you tell Dean in the hospital…Will he even understand that?'_

'_The call' _replied the spirit in reverent tones _'It's getting so strong and I can't resist it any more. I have something else I need to do. Just tell Dean he'll understand.'_

Hannah grasped at the entity in her mind as she felt his energy slipping away from her. His image wavered where it stood beside her and Hannah heard Dean call out to his father.

"He can't stay" she explained trying in vein to hold him for as long as possible "He says he has something else he needs to do. But he said that he loves you and you should only trust each other…and Dean I hope this makes sense to you, but he said that what he told you in the hospital may still be true."

As the words left her lips, the image of John finally winked out and was gone. Hannah sagged heavily against the bonnet of the bronco exhausted, but she was filled with an almost euphoric sense of relief. That was until she opened her eyes and found not one but two pistols pointed at her.

It had taken Dean only a heartbeat to realised what the cryptic message meant and as he heard Sam raise his gun also, he realised it had taken Sam only a fraction longer. But the look of genuine shock on Hannah's face said more to Dean than anything else could have. She had no idea that she had just told Dean, that he may have to kill his brother.

Dean took a few steps forward, ensuring that he put himself between Sam and the Doc the whole time. The closer he got the more his could smell her scent mingled with the tangy metallic smell of blood and railway dust. He wanted her…but it was not to be.

Hannah watched him move, his demeanour was aggressive but his eyes were almost pleading.

"Who do you work for?" Dean hissed through his teeth, but in her mind Hannah felt a subtle brush, like a whisper and she knew it was Dean reaching for her.

'_It's alright Doc. I believe you…and I understand'_

Initially Hannah was confused by the words in her ears and the words in her head, but she suddenly realised that it was Dean and she was impressed by his ability to say one thing and think another. It was a risky gambit on his part. It wouldn't take much for it to draw Sam's attention.

"I'm not working for anyone. I'm just the messenger." she said, her voice sounding anguished as she spoke.

'_I think something is trying to manipulate Sam…Maybe something he bought back with him when he died?'_

She sent the thought back to Dean and she saw the moment of understanding in his eyes.

"Turn around" Dean snarled verbally "Get you ass back in your car and get the hell out of here. If I ever see you again, I'll put a bullet between your eyes, is that clear?"

'_I know'_ said the voice in her head in a tone that couldn't have been more opposite from his spoken words _'But he's my brother and I have to help him. You have to back off now Doc and leave this to me alright?"_

"Is that clear?" hissed Dean again, his voice cold and hostile even while his thoughts were tender.

"Yes" said Hannah evenly and she could see in Dean's eyes that he understood that she was answering both his verbal request and his mental one.

'_If you need me…you know how to reach me.'_

With that last thought, Hannah turned, walked over to Charlotte and slipped into the driver's seat. She took off without a backwards glance, leaving the trio by the side of the road.

Dean lowered the colt and slipped it into the waist of his jeans.

"We shouldn't have left her alive." hissed Sam coming to stand at Dean's shoulder, but Dean averted his eyes. He was worried that he may look at his brother differently; lord knew he suddenly felt different about him. He still loved Sam…but he wasn't so sure that he could trust him any more.

"She saved our lives once." said Dean coldly "We owed her one for that. But next time…"

He left the sentiment unfinished, only because he was sure he couldn't say it with the conviction needed to make it believable.

"Let's get back to Wendy's" he finally said walking around the Bronco to the driver's side. "Rimmon will no doubt be on the move now and we'll need to figure out how to follow him so that we can kill this sorry son of a bitch once and for all."

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**290 Days**

**Spokane, Washington – 10:12 pm**

They had driven back to Wendy's apartment in absolute silence. They had all climbed the steps to her door together, but in their minds each one of them was very much alone; Dean with his thoughts, Wendy with her fear and Sam with his rage.

Wendy passed the keys to Dean, who opened up and strode into the place, going to the television and switching on to the local channel. In true media style, it had taken the local press less time to show up at the rail yard, than it had for the trio to return to Wendy's apartment.

'…_responding to an emergency call from the night watchmen of the Trent Avenue Rail Yard. Details surrounding this incident are sketchy at this time, but there is talk, that upon their arrival, police found the two night watchmen unconscious but unharmed. The rumour mill is also bustling with news that the bodies of up to a dozen large dogs were found in the rail yard, all of whom appear to have been shot, but this is, as yet, unconfirmed. This incident seems to have left police scratching their heads. Channel 5 news will continue to keep you updated when more information comes to light. This is Doug Stofren, Channel 5 News.'_

Dean muted the sound of the television a looked back over his shoulders to where both Wendy and Sam stood, watching in absolute silence.

"Wendy, sit down be for you fall down." said Dean, his voice sounding overly gruff, but there was an air of concern about it, that shook Sam out of his own thoughts.

For the first time since they had left the rail yard, Sam took a long hard look at Wendy. She was pale, her eyes swollen and bloodshot and she gripped on to the lapels of her coat with a death grip so intense it made her knuckles white.

With gentleness, Sam prised open her hands and held them in his, his face softening as she turned eyes that were wide and wild on him. It was hard for her to reconcile, the gentle man that she saw in front of her with the angry violent side she had seen earlier. It was almost as if two separate people resided within Sam Winchester and she realised that she knew neither of them.

"You look beat." Sam said gently caressing his fingers across her cheek. "How about we get you to bed?"

Wendy let Sam guide her towards her bedroom, she could find no words to express how she was feeling…hell, she couldn't even manage to say 'Goodnight' to Dean. She just went like some detached automaton into her room.

Sam paused at Wendy's bedroom door and looked back at where Dean sat on the sofa.

"I know you miss him Dean, I do too." said Sam gently "But that wasn't dad tonight."

Dean looked over his shoulder at his brother. His face was so sincere that it made Dean ache for him. The older Winchester believed that it was their father that they had seen tonight, and more importantly he believed in the Doc, but if he was going to help Sam in any way, those were facts that he was going to have to keep to himself.

"I know." He answered quietly, hating the necessary deception. Turning back to the television, Dean heard Sam disappear into Wendy's room and knew that he would probably have his hands full with Wendy. This hunt had gone south rapidly and poor Wendy, who had been on tender hooks to begin with, had been exposed to all the worst aspects of their job in the space of a few short hours.

Sam turned on the bedside lamp, beating back the darkness of Wendy's bedroom. Her large eyes followed him about the room, but she stood motionless like her body could no longer respond to her own commands.

"That's better" Sam muttered in a gentle voice, as he walked over to Wendy and slipped her coat off her shoulders.

He looked long and hard into her eyes, reading the terror that was storming through her. He trailed his ringers down her face in a gentle caress and felt the bone deep quivering that was wracking her body.

"I'm so sorry" Sam finally whispered, gathering the woman up in his arms just as all of her emotions broke over her.

Wendy held on to Sam, a strangled chocking sound erupting from her throat instead of tears, she couldn't cry, she was way beyond tears. She had gone this evening to face her fears, but instead of feeling strong and empowered, she was more confused and more fearful than ever.

She had realised far too late that this was a game well beyond her realm of experience and with stakes so much higher than anything she could conceive of. If she made a mistake at work the worst that could happen was a stray would get away or some animals missed food for a day. If Sam and Dean made a mistake people died.

Perhaps that was why Sam was a man of such extremes. He had shifted from the caring man that she had made love to that afternoon, to a ruthless hunter that firmly believed that the ends justified the means. He had been fully prepared almost eager to kill that woman they had met in the train yard. By rights, she should be dead, Sam shot at her more than a dozen times, hell Wendy had even taken a shot at her.

But the woman had lived. The three of them had a history, that much was clear to Wendy, but how it all fit together eluded her. She had been so sure that the woman had been trying to help her, yet Sam's vehement insistence to the contrary only left her more confused and more in doubt of everything that she had experienced that evening.

There was a part of Wendy's mind that was trying to convince her that she should have left them all there by the train tracks and just taken herself home to her safe little apartment in her safe little world. After all, what did she really know about any of these people? But her gut told her that she could never go back. She had seen and experienced too much and her world would no longer be safe.

Sam stroked her hair, holding her tightly to him. Guilt churned in his stomach, a bitter pill he would have to swallow. He was amazed that she even let him get this close to her, because he could feel the waves of fear and confusion rolling off of her. Not just fear about the things that she had witnessed tonight, but fear of him and the lengths that he had been willing to go.

He could certainly understand that, he had surprised even himself. When he thought Wendy was in danger, a frightening flame had ignited within him. I had fuelled a rage so intense that he had been prepared to do just about anything to keep her safe. He could have levelled that rail yard, he had touched enough power within himself to know that, and he would have happily done it if it would have kept Wendy or Dean safe.

As he realised just how committed he was to protecting those that he cared about, subconsciously he began projecting that in a subtle psychic push that would have barely been noticeable. He felt some of the tension bleed out of Wendy and her body all but melted into his.

He hated the fact that Wendy had been exposed to his world. Hated it worse that even though the pack had all but been destroyed, Rimmon had still gotten away, and worst of all, he hated that Hannah had come in contact with Wendy.

It wouldn't have taken a great psychic to figure out that Sam had feelings for this woman, and he was certain that if Hannah needed a pawn to assist in her own agenda, she would happily use Wendy to get to him and Dean. He had made Wendy a promise that he would keep her safe and he was determined to be a man of his word. First he would hunt down Rimmon and destroy him, then he would find Hannah.

He knew Dean would oppose him in this, but he would have to find a way to convince his brother that it was their only course of action. Hannah would never stop, she would always be at their back and while Sam didn't know what her ultimate motives were, he could not ignore that darkness that he could sense within her.

Clear now in what he needed to do, Sam pressed his lips to Wendy's forehead, flexing his long arms around her and pulling her tighter in against him.

"I'm so sorry you had to be there tonight Wendy. You didn't need to see that."

Wendy leaned back looking at him in the eye and holding his gaze. "It's not your fault. You and Dean tried to warn me, I just didn't understand."

"Did I frighten you?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it from her.

Wendy bit down on her lip as if in contemplation, her eyes left his and went to the floor. "Yes" she answered honestly lifting her head so he could again read her eyes. "There is so much about you that I don't know."

Sam let out the staccato breath that had lodged in his chest, and took a small step back instantly conscious that he didn't want to crowd Wendy or make her feel trapped. But as he moved, Wendy's fingers tightened on his shoulders and she held him firmly.

"But I do know" she said on a whisper "That you would never hurt me."

Relief washed through Sam, so intense that it almost buckled his knees. In such a short time Wendy had become important to him, her good opinion was important to him and he would have been devastated to have lost it. She was afraid, of what he did, of the abilities that he had, but she wasn't afraid of him as a man…and that was enough.

Sam claimed her mouth with his own, kissing her fervently, acknowledging that he understood and accepted what she was offering. He felt her long elegant fingers twist in his hair and let himself get lost on the heady sensation for a moment. Then he stepped back cupping her face in his large hands.

"Why don't you get changed and jump into bed and I'll go and make you something to help you sleep."

Wendy smiled wanly at him and nodded her head. Her hands kept contact with him as he moved towards the door and just before they lost that contact her grip tightened around his fingers.

"Sam" she said looking at him furtively "Will you stay with me tonight."

Sam smiled giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze "If that's what you want, of course."

Wendy smiled in thanks, and let her hand drop away from his, going about the task of shedding her blood spattered and filthy clothes. For a moment the task seemed too enormous, and she was tempted just to roll onto the bed, soiled clothes and all.

Sam slipped out of her room and had a look around the living room, still expecting to see Dean on the sofa. But the living room was dark and Dean must have taken himself off to the second bedroom.

Sam looked briefly over his shoulder at Wendy, wondering if he should spare some time and go speak with Dean. Seeing Hannah there tonight was probably hitting Dean hard, and while Sam knew that Dean would never admit it, he probably needed someone to talk to about it.

Feeling torn between the people he felt responsible for, Sam debated it for a moment. He felt that both needed him now, but it was a question of right at this moment which one needed him more. Put in those terms, Sam realised that there wasn't really a choice. Dean was fierce and strong and probably wouldn't appreciate intrusion at this point, while Wendy was frightened and feeling vulnerable and had asked Sam for his help.

Determined to speak with Dean in the morning, Sam went to the kitchen and looked through the cupboards to make Wendy something that would help her sleep. He heated up some milk in the microwave and mixed in some drinking chocolate that he had found in the cupboards and with a heavy hand he poured in some hazelnut liqueur that was obviously a favourite of Wendy's.

Taking a test sip, Sam smiled as the warm sweet liquid ran down his throat, the liqueur leaving a pleasant lingering warmth as it went down. It was perfect, soothing and probably had enough alcohol in it to help Wendy relax and make her sleep.

Sam made his way back to Wendy's bedroom, with mug in hand. When he slipped in, he noticed that Wendy had gotten into the bed as he had suggested, but in a manner that Sam suspected was unconscious, she had pulled the bed clothes high up under her chin and looked almost like a frightened child.

Easing himself onto the edge of the bed, Sam smiled at this beautiful woman and handed her the mug.

"What's this?" she questioned, eyeing it almost suspiciously.

"Hot chocolate" Sam said with a smile in his voice "With a kick."

Wendy took a sip and Sam almost laughed as he saw the recognition of the liqueur touch her face and she tried hard not to cough.

"Wow" she said, her voice momentarily abandoning her "That's some kick."

Sam's chuckle rumbled in his chest, it was a comforting sound that made Wendy smile.

"Drink up" he said moving off the bed, he shed his clothes, deciding to leave his boxers on. He didn't want Wendy to think that just because he was staying with her, that he would make any sexual demands on her. He moved around the bed and slid in under the covers.

Wendy took a tentative sip from the steaming mug and looked over the rim at Sam with questioning eyes.

"Sam" she said hesitantly "Who was that woman tonight?"

Sam sighed, knowing that this topic would have come up sooner or later.

"She's…" He hesitated looking for the right words to convey exactly who and what Hannah was.

"We met her doing a job in Iowa nearly a year ago and she helped us out then. In fact she saved our lives."

Wendy turned eyes of confusion onto Sam, she took a long swig from her mug and ten dropped down in the bed beside him so that she could press her cheek against the warmth of his arm.

"If she saved your life then, why do you think she was trying to hurt me tonight?"

Sam looked down at the golden haired beauty lying next to him. He raised his arm and she resettled closer to him, fitting herself in the crook of his arm and pressing her cheek against his chest.

"So much has happened since then." He said enigmatically "The demon gate was opened and it sent a horde of demons out into the world, anyone of them could be pulling her strings now."

He sighed and Wendy could feel the tension in him, as if there was some great internal struggle going on just under his skin.

"I just sense such a depth of darkness within her, I can't trust her. And now with her bringing up visions of my dad, I know she is trying something, I just can't quite figure out what. Dean should have just let me take care of her."

The pair lapsed into silence, Sam regretting brining up the violence that was inherent in his way of life and Wendy sorry that she had returned the tension of the evening back into Sam with her question.

She tightened her hold on him and ran her hand up and down his arm, trying to sooth him.

"You'll have to leave soon won't you?"

Sam looked down at the top of Wendy's head as he heard her whisper, surprised that she had broached the subject now.

"Yes" he said unwilling to lie to her "Once we get a fix on which way Rimmon's gone and once I know you're safe, we'll have to get going"

Wendy looked up at him, meeting his brown eyed stare with her own. Silent understanding ran between them. He wasn't about to just pick up and leave, he wasn't going to take off at first light, he would put his life on hold for a moment and make sure she was fine, and for that she was truly grateful.

Reaching up, she ran her fingers along his jaw, tugging gently on his face so that her lips met his in a gentle kiss of appreciation. Sam indulged in the sweet sincerity of her kiss for a moment before moving down in the bed and gathering her close.

As Sam shifted Wendy reached behind herself and switched off the bedside lamp. The sudden darkness made her stiffen slightly, until she felt Sam's arms encircle her and draw her near.

She resettled in the crook of his arm, letting his presence and heat burn away her ever present fear. For a long time she lay in silence, until she felt Sam's breathing slow and deepen and she let his solid heartbeat lull her into sleep.

Sam woke as intense light broke in through the small gap in the curtains and fell across his face. He awoke realising that he had a surprisingly dream free sleep. With Wendy in his arms he hadn't thought to call on Mike or his mother and as a result they had not come.

He rolled from his back to his side to protect his eyes from the morning light that was intruding on his sleep and as he shifted, he felt Wendy resettle herself in her sleep, so that she was pressed up against his chest, his long body wrapping around hers.

Sam couldn't help smiling at Wendy's subconscious action and with sudden acute understanding he realised why. Jess had been the same way, exactly the same way. Usually Sam was not one for sleeping tangled up with someone else. He enjoyed holding someone, particularly after making love with them, but when it came to going to sleep, he would have to distance himself in the bed and find his own space.

That was until he met Jess. She had an uncanny ability to unconsciously mirror all of his moves in the bed; some how she had been able to move with him in his sleep so that he had never felt crowded or uncomfortable. Sam had always taken that as a sign that they were meant to be together. In the bed with Jess he always been able to sleep and he would have been happy to have woken up every single day of his life tangled up with her.

He realised as he pressed his lips to the top of Wendy's head that she also had that ability and the comprehension came like a sucker punch to his stomach. He pulled her close, a sudden protective impulse coursing through him. She stirred slightly in her sleep and he soothed her until she resettled in again pushing back into his chest.

Sam dozed for quite a long time until he felt Wendy shift, she moved with tentative motions, trying not to wake him, so that when he tightened his grip on her, he heard her gasp in surprise, before she laughed slightly allowing herself to be pulled back down into the bed.

"Where are you going?" Sam said without opening his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lip.

"I was going to get up and get in the shower and make sure you Winchester's have something to eat for breakfast."

"Screw breakfast." said Sam burying his face in the soft curls at her neck.

Wendy couldn't help the warmth that flooded through her as Sam kissed and bit her neck lightly. She resisted him for all of about thirty seconds and then she turned into him so that she could meet his gentle assault with a counter attack.

* * *

Dean rubbed his hand across the mirror, looking back at the reflection distorted by the rivulets of waters that were condensing on the shinny surface. He was desperately trying to ignore the intimate sounds coming from the bedroom next door, but in the small apartment he couldn't seem to escape from it anywhere.

He pulled the towel from his hips and rubbed it one last time over his arm and shoulders, before he dropped it to the floor and reached for his change of clothes. He had lain awake for most of the night wondering what he was going to do about Sam, until in the early hours of the morning he had to concede that he would need help.

Dean hung his towel neatly on the towel rack of Wendy's bathroom, before grabbing his coat and keys and heading out of the apartment. He jumped in the Bronco with no particular destination in mind; his only thought was the need to ring Bobby.

Judging from his response last night, Dean now felt Sam was like a gun with a bullet jammed in the barrel, he was dangerous and unpredictable and Dean sure as hell didn't want him going off and taking out an innocent. He had desperately wanted to call the Doc, but if Sam caught wind of that, it could be more than enough to push him over the edge, so instead he decided to contact the man who was almost as knowledgeable about this as his father had been.

Dean dialled Bobby's number as he drove and nearly winced as he heard the sleepy response down the phone. He hadn't considered where Bobby may have been, they hadn't exactly spoken to him recently; nor Ellen for that matter, but he needed them both now.

As Dean filled Bobby in on the situation and Hannah's suspicions, the older man grew very quiet on the other end of the phone.

After a pregnant pause, Dean started to worry "Bobby ….you still there?"

"Yeah…Yeah I'm here?" said the gruff voice distractedly "Don't worry Dean…I'll get in contact with Ellen, we'll think of something."

"Like what?" said Dean, suddenly concerned at the older man's tone.

"If Sam's reading you Dean, it's better if you don't know."

Dean's brow furrowed in concern, for the first time he began regretting contacting Bobby. The old hunter was a good friend and certainly loyal, but he was also a man with a proven history of doing what needed to be done…whatever that entailed.

"Bobby" Dean said sternly "This is Sam remember…you're not going to do anything to hurt him."

"Of course not." replied Bobby, but Dean got the distinct impression that he was being mollified. "Give me a day or two to come up with a plan, and I'll call you back."

Dean hung up his phone with an angry snap, irritated at himself for going to others about Sam. He wanted to have faith in Bobby but his gut was nagging at him that he may have just made a rather significant error in judgement.

The worst of it was he had to put it out of his mind before he returned to the apartment. If he didn't Sam would surely know and that would just escalate a bad situation to catastrophic.

Dean pulled the truck over outside of a coffee shop. He dashed inside buying coffees, the local paper and a selection a danishes and pastries. Surprisingly, the rather banal activity of thinking about breakfast gave Dean the focus he needed to push his worries to the far recesses of his mind. If Sam went looking, it would be all over, Dean had no delusions about that, but on the surface he felt now that he could face his brother and not tip his hand.

He returned to the apartment and rather embarrassingly he had to knock on the door, because he had forgotten to take Wendy's keys. Sam opened the door dressed in his boxes and a t-shirt.

"Hey Dude" he said with a smile "Where'd you go?"

"Coffee run" said Dean holding up the cardboard tray of paper cups as he moved into the room. "I felt like a bit of a third wheel hanging around the apartment so I thought I'd just go out real quick."

Dean looked at his brother and despite the turmoil he was fighting hard to burry; he gave his brother a Cheshire cat smile.

Sam returned his brother's gaze, a strange combination of embarrassment and smugness. "It wasn't that quick." He muttered under his breath and heard Dean's bark of laughter in response.

As Dean pulled out the cups of coffee and sat one in front of Sam he sobered quickly.

"I called Bobby, told him about Rimmon."

Dean kept his eyes on the stuff he was unpacking and through sheer force of will, kept his mind deliberately blank.

Sam took a bite from one of the pastries like a man who hadn't eaten in a week. "What he say?" he asked with half a mouth full of Danish.

"He's going to keep and eye out for Demon sign in the surrounding areas, help us get a heading on this bastard."

"So what do we do now?" asked Sam and from the slight hesitation in his brother's voice, Dean could sense the younger Winchester's desire to stick around for a while. Normally this would have been out of the question in Dean's way of doing things, but right now, having Sam's attention focused squarely on Wendy worked in Dean's favour.

"Well without some sort of clue or direction as to how to get this bastard, we do what we always do." said Dean with a careless shrug "We troll through the papers, police records and the FBI database and we look for the next hunt."

"Really?" said Sam sounding somewhat surprised by Dean's answers.

"What else can we do? Unless you got some mojo you want to try?"

Dean was hesitant to bring up Sam's gifts in conversation, particularly after last night, but if he was going to appear normal, he had to act like the previous night was nothing out of the ordinary.

"No" said Sam contemplatively "He's still shielding himself and I haven't quite gotten a sense of how to track that."

Dean shrugged nonchalantly as he opened up the local paper and began to skim across the headlines.

Sam watched his brother for a few moments as he seemingly read through the paper. He looked tired, his eyes sunken and rimmed with dark circles almost like bruises. It was obvious that he had not slept well for some time, and for a moment, Sam felt a sharp pang of guilt for the dreamless restful sleep he had with Wendy the previous night.

"Dean" said Sam gently, anticipating anger from his brother "About Hannah….."

Dean's eyes snapped up as Sam said her name. "I'm ok" interrupted Dean, eager to sideline this particular topic. "Honestly Sammy. I'm ok with it."

Sam looked dubiously at his brother, but said nothing more about it returning his attention to his coffee and danish.

**

* * *

**

289 Days

**Spokane, Washington – 10:42 am**

Hannah glanced at the clock that sat on the bedside table. She had another twenty minutes or so until the check out time, and she cast a final look around the room to make certain that she hadn't left anything, as she packed the last of her things into her bag.

The room was quaint with a beautiful view of the Spokane Valley, and given a different set of circumstances she may have stayed, but after the previous night, Spokane felt tainted to her. She caught sight of herself in the large mirror over the dresser and looked at her face.

She was pale, paler than usual and her eyes were swollen and bloodshot. Protecting herself from bullets, demon dogs and Sam's powerful assault had stripped her of nearly everything, and a sensible person would have stayed put for a day or two, but Hannah just couldn't. The whole city felt wrong to her senses and she could not allow herself to drop her guard.

She had barely slept, worrying over Sam and Dean. Her obligation to deliver John Winchester's message was over, and now the spirit was well and truly gone. That absence felt strange, like a missing limb might. She had grown used to the feel of him on the periphery of her consciousness and now that he was no longer there, she had to school herself to stop looking for him.

Strangely, now that he was gone, she felt some residual responsibility for his son's well being. Something was definitely happening with Sam, and while Dean was very skilled, she doubted that he was in anyway prepared for what was happening to his brother. Not that she was in any position to judge, Hannah had no notion as to what was affecting Sam either, but she had a few more weapons in her arsenal against someone like him and she knew that she could help.

Despite every instinct to the contrary, Hannah had put her faith in Dean. He had said to her that he would take care of it, but more importantly he had let her know unquestioningly that he believed her. Hannah had been surprised at just how affected she was by the knowledge, but after having a evening where she was battered and bruised and beaten, that one fact shown like a beacon and warmed her in spite of her evening of adversity.

Collecting her bags, Hannah walked down the hall to the reception foyer. As she settled her account with the round faced inn keeper, she browsed through brochures and pamphlets that were in neat piles on the counter.

She knew that she had to get back to the cottage, but a hard push clear across the country held absolutely no appeal. What she needed was somewhere out of the way where she could go and recuperate and get some perspective back in her life. As she thumbed through the pamphlets she spotted a photo of a beautiful manor house, perched on a hill overlooking a lake.

Hannah picked up the brochure, running her thumb over its crisp high sheen service. _"Clark House"_ was written in Copperplate Gothic across the top and when she flipped it over, there was a small map with a magnified view of Idaho, and Coeur D'Alene in bold red script.

"Excuse me" she said to the inn keeper, who looked up at her with warm blue eyes. "Is this relatively close?"

The innkeeper squinted for a moment, looking at the brochure that Hannah held up for her.

"What Clark House?" she said leaning forward slightly "Sure! It's only about 20miles down the I90. Would you like me to call ahead to make a reservation for you?"

Hannah smiled at the woman who looked at her expectantly "No, that's alright. I'm kind of playing it by ear."

"Very well" said the inn keeper, still smiling "If I just get your signature here, then you can be on your way."

Hannah signed the checkout slip and passed the woman her room key. Then with brochure in hand, she gathered her bags and headed down to where Charlotte was parked.

**

* * *

**

287 Days

**Spokane, Washington – 4:06am**

Consciousness crashed in on Sam and his eyes flicked open, only to be met with darkness. He could feel heat radiating from the woman who lay beside him and he turned into her, burying his face in the soft curls of her hair. For two days he had been given a reprieve from his life and he had been able to indulge in the fantasy life that he had been living here with Wendy, but Mike had visited his dreams this evening, bearing news of Rimmon and Sam's sense of duty could net ignore that.

When the sun rose, he and Dean would have to leave and the very thought made his whole body ache in despair. He gathered Wendy closer, wishing that time would slow so that he could be with her for longer, but that was a futile wish. He pressed kisses to the back of her neck and on her shoulder, breathing her sent deep into his lungs and committing the feel of her skin to memory.

"Sam...?" Wendy muttered sleepily. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sam said, feeling a sharp pang of guilt for waking her "I just wanted to kiss you."

Wendy felt the warm press of Sam's lips to her neck and shoulder. He kissed like a man eating his last meal and realisation flooded through her. She rolled in his arms so that she could face him. She couldn't make out his features in the darkness, but it didn't matter, there was an inherent intimacy in facing him.

"You have to leave today...don't you?"

"Shhh" whispered Sam, running his hand over her soft warm flesh that was deliciously naked under the bed clothes "Just kiss me."

He hadn't answered her question, but she already knew the answer. A knot of desperation curled in her gut. It wasn't like she didn't know this was coming, but the reality of it was more than Wendy had been prepared for. She found Sam's face with her hands, running her thumb over his soft lips and then with all the fear and desperation that was unfurling within her, she kissed him, hard and deep.

Sam wrapped himself around her, trying to get as close to her as possible, urgency was riding both of them. The ever present knowledge that soon he would be gone shadowed every touch and every caress making each one an act of desperation. Sam threaded his fingers through Wendy's hair, curling his hand into a fist, he held her with almost bruising force as he kissed her thoroughly.

Wendy's lips parted under the assault from Sam's mouth and she could taste him everywhere, the sensation stirring warmth in her stomach. She could feel his pulsing length against the satin soft skin of her belly, so she ground her pelvis down into him stroking him with her entire body.

Sam gasped at her motion, allowing her to take a much needed breath, but it was only a momentary pause and he went back to kissing her hard. Their arms and legs tangled in a writhing mass, screwing the bedclothes up into an uncomfortable pile right next to them. With a few strategically placed kicks, the lovers had sent the bedclothes off the bed to the floor.

In an uncharacteristic show of dominance and strength, Wendy pushed Sam to his back, straddling his hips and allowing his rock hard cock to settle in the crevice of her feminine flesh. She held his head down with fingers twisted in his hair as she trailed her tongue up the corded muscle of his throat in a long sensuous glide.

Wendy felt Sam buck slightly beneath her and could not help but revel in the sense of power that it gave her. She dragged her hand down the contours of his chest and feeling his taught nipples under her fingers, she bent forward to take each one in her mouth.

Sam gripped Wendy's hips and ground himself against her, feeling the slick glide of her flesh over his cock. He throbbed so badly he was almost in pain and he was both eager and reticent to bury himself within her. He felt her teeth sink into the flesh of his chest in a provocative little bite which only managed to twist the coil of desire tighter inside him.

Sam grabbed a fistful of Wendy's hair and tugged on it with a force that was close to painful, so that she was sitting up over his hips, then with a subtle shifting of his muscles he repositioned himself so that the head of his penis was pressed to the opening of her sheath.

A moment passed between them, where everything stilled. If there had been enough light, they would have been looking at each other, but in the sensual darkness all they could do was feel each other. Then Sam thrust up hard, impaling Wendy deeply, a grunting groan escaping his lips as pleasure ignited within him.

Wendy's head dropped back as Sam's cock pushed with the exquisite stroke through her slick folds. Heat flooded through her, starting from where their flesh was pressed tightly together and rising up her belly and over her breasts to her cheeks.

Sam still clutched at her hips as he withdrew almost completely, only to push back into her in a velvet glide of flesh against flesh. He felt almost drunk by the euphoric sensation coursing through him, but there was always this underlying urgency and he almost couldn't prevent the pumping of his hips as he pushed into her again and again.

Wendy splayed her hands against Sam's solid chest, setting up a rolling rhythm with her hips that timed in with each one of his thrusts. Sensation pulsed through her as she rode him in that steady rhythm, but after a short while, her breaths shortened and subtle wistful moans slipped from her lips. Her head fell forward a moment before her body shattered and as her ecstasy took her she arched her back, throwing her head back in rapture.

As he felt Wendy reach her release, Sam stilled within her taking great pleasure in the contractions he felt around his throbbing shaft . She slumped down, spent against his chest and her wrapped his long arms around her, revelling in the feel of her sweat slick flesh pushed against his own.

In one dexterous move, Sam rolled so that she was now beneath him and with a long sensuous kiss, he began to move within her again, each thrust causing an answering after shock deep within Wendy's body. In no time Wendy had picked his rhythm and had angled her pelvis forward so that every one of Sam's thrusts stroked deep within her. She could feel the heat building again and she clung to Sam's powerful arms to give herself something to anchor to.

Wendy's sheath gripped Sam like a glove, she was so tight and so slick with the juices of her excitement that she felt like heaven, the sensation a heady mix of both pain and undefinable pleasure. He had wanted to draw his pleasure out, building it up slowly and teasing Wendy with the possibility of a climax, only to leave her wanting so that he could start all over again, but his body had other ideas.

When he felt the quiver of imminent release run through her, he could not stop his body, and with almost mindless abandoned he pistoned into her, until he felt his balls tighten in anticipation. Wendy's sheath closed over him almost painfully and he spilt himself deep within her, his body shaking with the intensity of his release.

Wendy was wound so tight by Sam's deep constant motion that when she felt him loose his grip on his control it was enough to push her over. Pleasure overwhelmed her and she clutched at Sam's shoulders, her fingernails, biting deeply into his flesh. Completely spent, Wendy welcomed Sam's weight and it came down on her. He rested his forehead against hers, dropping gentle tender kisses in her lips and cheeks.

Wendy wrapped both of her arms and legs around Sam's body, unwilling to let him go for quite some time. It was only when he felt her body cooling, that Sam pulled out of her gently and reached for the abandoned bed clothes, pulling them up over Wendy's body. Sam settled in behind Wendy gathering her close and wrapping his body around hers.

"Do something for me." she said into the intimate darkness "When you leave, do it quickly, just like a band aid. I don't do farewells too well."

"Alright" said Sam slightly taken back by the request, but at this moment he could deny her nothing.

"And if you are not coming back, do me a favour...lie to me."

Sam pressed his face into the hollow of her neck, his hand caressing the smooth contours of her body.

"Oh I'll be back for sure." he said fervently

"See" she said in voice barely audible "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Sam tightened his arms around her, sending her waves of reassurance. Her mind was a hive of activity but she was tired, Sam could sense it within her, so he sent a subtle push for her to sleep, and soon he felt her body go slack in his arms. He lay with her for hours until sunlight breached the dark solitude of their room. With the greatest of care Sam slipped from the bed and headed off to wake Dean.

Even thought he heard the gentle rapping on door, Dean still reached for the hunting knife that he kept under his pillow. The door opened and from the size of the silhouette, Dean could make out it was Sam.

"Hey" he said sounding weary "What's up?"

Sam came and sat on the edge of the bed and Dean felt the mattress dip from his brother's weight.

"I know where Rimmon is going." Sam said simply, letting all of the implications of that statement go unspoken.

"Yeah? How?" asked Dean, pushing himself up so his back rested against the bed head.

"Dream." said Sam without further explanation "He's heading south east to Utah. He could even be there by now."

"Utah? What the hell is in Utah except Mormons and rocks?" grumbled Dean.

"I don't know, I haven't worked that out yet."

Dean tried to see his brothers face in the semi light of the early morning. "So when do you want to leave?"

"As soon as we can." replied Sam, his voice deliberately flat, but Dean knew his brother well enough to hear the subtle tone of pain.

"What about Wendy?…I mean now that we know where he's going we could sick around here for a few more days."

"I appreciate what you are trying to do Dean, but we would still have to go some time." said Sam, sounding thoroughly defeated. "She asked that we leave quickly, so I want to do it before she wakes up."

Dean sighed, hearing the pain in his brother's voice and empathising with it on a level that Sam would never understand. "Why don't you ask her to come with us, I've seen the way she looks at you dude and she's……"

"I couldn't ask that of her Dean" said Sam running his hands agitatedly through his hair "I wouldn't. She has a life here, a life that she loves."

"Then we'll come back, after we get Rimmon." said Dean determinedly.

Sam patted his brother on the leg accepting Dean's understanding of just how difficult this was for him to leave.

"Alright" he said quietly.

Silence passed between the brothers for a moment and then Dean pushed back the covers to get out of be.

"Give me twenty minutes" he said returning to his harsh business like tone, as he hurried out of the bedroom towards the bathroom.

* * *


	10. Chapter 10

**Flesh & Blood – Chapter 10**

**Day 286**

**Huntington, Oregon – 1:12am**

Sam lay in the hard motel bed staring up at the ceiling that was badly in need of a coat of paint. Even though Dean was asleep in the bed next to him, Sam couldn't help but feel the acute loss of Wendy for beside him in the bed.

Somehow in a few short days she had gotten under his skin, and dare he say it, worked her way into his heart and now without her he felt bereft. Dean had done the lion's share of the driving to get them to Huntington and it had left Sam to think over the note that he had left for Wendy. It was truly a sorry statement about their calling that the majority of the note that Sam had left to show his gratitude and assure her of his return, had actually been dedicated to warning her about all the precautions that she now had to take.

Where most men would have left their lovers and nice piece of jewellery or flowers, Sam had left her a hand gun to protect herself. Until this moment, Sam had never truly understood how Dean had thought severing all ties with Hannah would have some how protected her. Lying in the tacky hotel in Huntington, he understood it, and if he was a better man, he would do the same...but apparently he wasn't. There was no way in the world that he could conceive of not going back to see Wendy.

Through out the day he had reached out and touched her mind with his. She had slept late into the day and when she had awoken to find herself alone in the apartment she had cried into her pillow. Then she had gotten up and eaten a tub of ice cream and watched old movies until she felt a bit better. Sam wasn't sure if being ignorant was better than having this knowledge, but he hadn't been ready to leave and he was fairly certain that he could not have stopped his mind going to her even if he wanted to.

Sam rolled over closing his eyes and pulling the scratchy hotel bedclothes up over his shoulder. He was just about to will himself to sleep, when he felt a pull on his consciousness, followed by the highly disconcerting sensation of falling.

As he got his bearings, Sam looked around and realised that he had been pulled into the manifestation of his consciousness. The strange Victorian house never changed, but every time he visited the hallways and number of doors seem to increase exponentially. Idly he wandered if that had any significance, but like the many other times that he had been in this place, somehow he was always able to find his way to the massive stairwell he imagined was at the centre of the structure.

As he opened a door from a long corridor, he found his mother standing at the base of the stairs and he smiled walking to her in two long strides. She hugged him warmly and he just couldn't get over the comfort that came from a mother's touch.

"I'm sorry about that" said a voice from the shadows of a door half opened down the hall from where his mother stood.

Sam straightened at the sound of the voice, recognising it immediately. "What did you do Mike?"

The tall lanky figure stepped out from the door, pulling it closed behind him. "I pulled you in." he confessed with a subtle smile.

"I've got news for you and I've been waiting for you to sleep, but you just wouldn't cooperate would you, so I had to give you a little nudge."

Instinctively Sam put himself between his mother and the creature in front of him. Even though it wore the visage of a man Sam had once known, Sam was under no illusions as to what Mike actually was. Mike had been feeding Sam information for a long time now, and more often than not it had proven to be reliable.

That didn't mean that Sam trusted the entity, but he was a lot more tolerant of the creature now, than he had been initially.

"What's you news?" Sam said, feeling his mother take a seat on the steps behind him.

"If I tell you, you have to promise me something first?" said Mike sliding forward a grave mask slipping over his usually jovial face.

"Why don't you tell me, and then we'll negotiate terms." said Sam, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why would I do that Sam?" argued Mike pulling himself up onto the balustrade of the stair well and leaning precariously out over the bottomless drop "Once you have the information, I have no guarantees what you will do with it."

"I guess you'll just have to trust me." replied Sam evenly.

"Alright" said Mike with a sigh. He swung his legs, like a child as he took a moment to think about his words. "Have you ever heard of the _Vohu Manah?" _

Sam's brows furrowed in concentration "I think I have heard the expression before, but I don't know where from."

Mike smiled broadly "Well in Zoroastrian tradition it literally means 'those of good purpose'. I guess you could say they were an order of angels like the seraphim. But what isn't widely known is that there is an order of demons that are also known as the _Vohu Manah_."

Confusion flooded Sam's mind "I thought you said they were of good purpose, how can a demon be of good purpose, that's a contradiction in terms isn't it?"

"Not for a demon that is looking for redemption." said Mike, a hint of awe touching his voice.

"Bullshit" said Sam, his eyebrows raised high in his hairline.

"Hey" said Mike his anger flaring "Despite what you might think, hell may be bad for humans, but it isn't exactly a day spar for the demons that are there. Why do you think I have been working so hard to stay out of there?"

Mike sighed deeply, letting his anger subside as he breathed in and out. "Some of the Fallen want to go back, and they see their only key into heaven as redemption."

"That is the most absurd thing that I have ever heard." said Sam with and air of contempt.

"Think on it for a second Sam...just consider. If you were one of God's chosen, loved above all others until humanity was created and free to exhist in the perfect eutopia that is heaven, wouldn't you what to get back in?"

Sam snorted derisvely "But a demon is incapable of redemption, their very natures prevent it."

"Well I wouldn't know about that" Mike said with a shrug "And to be perfectly honest I don't really care. Let the philosophers debate it out I say. I'm just given you some information that could help you."

"Are you _Vohu Manah_ Mike?" asked Sam, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Mike paused, studying Sam with a calculating eye, finally he spoke. "No" he said a smile spreading across his face "I'm just a man who looks after number one."

Sam returned his smile and leant his hip more casually against the balustrade that Mike was perched on "I appreciate that you didn't lie to me. Alright, explain to me the significance of this _Vohu Manah_."

Mike nodded, acknowledging the silent understanding that had settled between them. "The _Vohu Manah_, see their redemption in the destruction of every other demon, only then do they believe that they will be welcomed back into the kingdom of Heaven. In hell, they are an underground movement, I guess the demon equivalent of the IRA or the French Resistance, but when the hell gates were opened, apparently one got out."

"Yeah so?" questioned Sam, intrigued by the information but also confused by it.

"Well I just found out that she has been going around and recruiting the 'Chosen' of each generation to her cause many of whom had already aligned themselves with other demons, and the word is that she is now looking for you."

Sam stiffened slightly at the last piece of information. He hadn't thought on the other 'Chosen' for a long time and now he wondered why he hadn't given them more consideration.

"Alright" said Sam, his mind almost whirring with his thoughts "This _Vohu Manah_ is looking for me, good heads up, now what did you want in return."

"When she finds you" said Mike his voice sounding suddenly urgent "And she will find you. You can't tell her about me. If she learns of me, she'll destroy me."

"Why should that worry me Mike, you've already confessed that you're only out for yourself." asked Sam, making his tone deliberately flippant.

"Because without me." Mike countered angrily "You don't get to see pretty Mary any more."

Before Sam could retort, he felt a strange presence on the periphery of his senses, and every internal alarm that he had went on instant alert. Mike looked up also, like he too had noticed that sudden change around them and then with wide eyes he looked back at Sam.

"Speak of the devil." Mike said "Remember what I told you. Don't mention me ever. The _Vohu Manah _are zealots on a mission and she will never tolerate my existence."

With an agile flick of his legs, Mike vaulted off the balustrade and disappeared behind the door he had entered through. Sam looked behind at his mother, her looked back at him with and expression of confusion.

"I'm sorry Mom, I have to go and check this out." Sam said apologetically, but Mary Winchester just smiled indulgently and whispered "Go".

* * *

Tension corsed through Sam's body as soon as his eyes opened. Without moving, his eyes searched the darkness, just as he let his extra senses reach out all around him. He could feel them then at the periphery of his conciousness. Two of the them, standing out in the carpark outside of the hotel room.

Sam slid from the bed, pulling the gun that he habitually slept with out from under the pillow. Keeping low he moved over to where Dean slept in the bed next to him. Sam placed a firm hand on his brothers arm, giving him a solid shake.

"Dean, we've got trouble." He said, but his brother remained silent.

Despite Sam's instance, Dean could not be roused. With his heart in his throat, Sam held two fingers to Dean's throat. Releif coursed through him as he felt the steady beat of Dean's pulse under his fingers and Sam came to the realisation that the unnatural sleep his brother was under was a result of the pair outside.

Sam centred his mind, focusing his thoughts and tapping into the well of power that coursed from deep within him. Again he flared his senses out wide, and felt the pair burning like pillars of fire in his conciousness. Their psychic signature were strong and unlike anything Sam had experience before.

Breathing deeply, Sam poised himself to defend he and his brother, drawing his power to his conciousee mind and coiling himself ready to strike. As he prepared, he hear a child's voice within the deepest recesses of his mind.

'_That is unessacary Sam Winchester. We have merely come to speak with you.'_

Sam faltered at the innocent sound of the childs voice and he allowed the build-up of energy to dissipate, trying desperately to make sense of what was going on. The younger Winchester stopped to consider for a minute. They had already been able to get to Dean, if he were to attack them now, he wasn't sure if he could protect his brother.

He saw his only as going outside and facing the. Sam reached for the jeans that had been careless tossed at the foot of his bed. He didn't bother with a shirt or shoes. He figured if a fight was about to take place, it wouldn't be a physical one. That didn't stop him however taking his gun.

Sam moved to the door, pressing his back against the rouch hewn surface. He eased the door open a crack and searched the darkness of the car park as far as he could see. Standing in one end of the car park, two figures stood shrouded in darkness.They stood completely motionless as they waited, and Sam wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, but they seemed small to his eyes.

Sam eased himself out of the hotel room, his gun held tight to his chest. He moved from the cover of the doorway to the Bronco, constantly keeping cover between him and the mysterious entities in the car park. Sam kept in a low crouch as he moved behind the tray of to the Bronco and when he hit the end, he dropped to his knee looking out at the figures.

Still they had not moved, they appeared to be waiting for him. Sam stood quickly levelling his gun in their direction.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

The taller of the shadows took two small steps forward and pale moonlight flowed over her as she moved. She was a girl, tall with slightly boyish features, but there was a subtle swell of breasts that marked her as a teenager.

"You don't need the gun Sam, we're not here to hurt you." he voice sounded young, even slightly petulant, but it was certainly not the voice that he had heard in his head.

"Who are you and what have you done to my brother?" Sam repeated levelling the gun back at the girl, who stopped looking at him with slightly mocking eyes.

"I'm Mel and this is Isabelle, where just here to help you." Again the slightly petulant tone put Sam's teeth on edge but he held his tongue as he watched the smaller shadow step forward into the silver moonlight. She was a vision of miniature perfection, a child of no more than four or five.

Her large eyes held his as she moved and her white blonde hair swung slightly as the walked. To he chest she held a stiff jointed bare, but as Sam looked at her he was acutely aware that this was no child. There was an aura of power around her that felt old and far more powerful than anything Sam had experienced before and strangely it made her seem much larger than she actually was.

"Your brother is sleeping Sam, nothing more" The little girl had the voice of the a child, but her words were powerful sliding over all of Sam's extended senses like warm silk.

Sam's eyes narrowed as he trained the gun on the child standing before him "You're no child." he hissed venomously appalled that any demon would use this beautiful little vessel.

The child smiled, her wide eyes crinkling at the corners as if Sam's words had amused her greatly.

"No. I am not." she said taking a few steps towards him "I wanted to choose something that would not be intimidating to those that I wished to speak to. I found this one in the hospital, she has leukemia and without me, she would be dead now. She is the perfect host for my needs."

"And what of her consciousness." hissed Sam, a memory of when he had once been a host coming keenly to his mind. "Is she aware of you?"

"No" said the little girl, he face growing solemn "She exist in a fantasy land of her own creation, much like living in a pleasant dream, I imagine. I am not hurting her Sam. She feels none of the pain of her ailment and she no longer must undertake those excruciating treatments that were trying to prolonge her life. I have given her the only opportunity she has had in her short life to stop being a patient and just be a child."

"And when you leave her body, she'll die." said Sam, anger making his throat feel tight.

"Perhaps" said the girl her elfin eyes growing heavy with unshed tears "But that is for God to decide, not me."

Sam couldn't help the bark of laughter that left his throat. It seemed completely incongruous to him to hear a demon speaking in such reverent tones about the will of god.

The child turned indulgent eyes on Sam, like she was explaining something to one of slow intellect "Sam you may know what I am, but you do not know who I am."

"Of course I do" said Sam harshly "Your _Vohu Manahand_ and she's a 'chosen one' just like me."

Isabelle's brows rose in surprise as she heard Sam speak the sacred name. It appeared from her reaction, that she had been completely unprepared for him to know what she was.

"If you were a regular demon, your hosts comfort would be of no consideration to you." Sam explained, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Or you're lying to me."

"So you know of the _Vohu Manah_?" she said, the astonishment still ringing in her voice.

"My father hunted demons for the better part of his life, he made certain I was well educated." All right, so the later statement was something of a fabrication, but he could hardly reveal his actual source. In this game, information was power and he wanted to remind this demon that he was far from powerless.

"If you know me as _Vohu Manah_ Sam Winchester, then why are you still pointing that gun at me?" she asked a small amount of incredulity filling her voice.

"Because I also know about Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny, it doesn't mean that I believe in them."he hissed.

At his words, silvery laughter filled the still night air as the elf like child threw he head back and laughed " So you think us creatures of myth?" she said, dimples forming in each of her cherub like cheeks as she smiled.

"Lets' just say in my experience I have never met an altruistic demon."

"I imagine not" said Isabelle, the amusement still in her voice "But whether you believe I am what I say or not doesn't change what I can offer you."

"Here we go" said Sam rolling his eyes "What can you possibly offer me?"

"A way to save your brother" the child said plainly, watching as Sam's face went from mocking to stoic in a heartbeat.

"Dean? How?" Sam's gut churned, he had expected a lot of things from this pair, but this certainly wasn't on of them.

"I know the demon who he made his bargain with. She is very old and very powerful, but with my help you could destroy her."

For the first time in this exchange Sam lowered his gun, the prospect of saving Dean meant just about everything to him and he was rendered speechless at the thought.

"If she is destroyed she can hardly collect all her markers can she?" continued Isabelle, her childish mouth raising in a rakish smile completely at odds with her infantile features.

"And in return?" Sam asked, but his voice was hollow, the implications of what he could do still overwhelming him.

"In return" Isabelle said, her voice turning serious once again "I need your help to destroy the other demons that escaped the hell gate."

Sam stiffened, pulling himself up to his full height "What's the catch?"

"There's no catch" Mel said with a sneer on her lips "Where offering you everything you want?"

Sam's eyes narrowed and they shifted from the older girl's to the child that stood next to her. He looked at her expectantly and with a childlike sigh she returned his gaze.

"If we are going to do this, you must leave with us immediately and your brother can have no part in this."

At the prospect of leaving Dean behind, Sam unconsciously levelled his gun back at the child's head "What?" he stammered "Why?"

"Sam" said Isabelle allowing the bear to drop from her chest and hang inverted at her side. " Dean is connected to the Riordan woman, you know that yourself. And despite your best efforts at shielding your presence, she was still able to find you. Dean is marked by her and she will always be able to find him. I can't afford that. I won't allow it to jeopardise my operation."

"No" said Sam adamantly "If Dean doesn't come too, then it's no deal."

Isabelle sighed melodramatically "Think about this very carefully Sam. This is an offer with an imminent expiry. As it is I have already exposed myself too much."

"No" repeated Sam "I'll find another way."

"Then you will fail." Isabelle said quietly, her eyes dropping to the pavement beneath her feet "An most likely die in the attempt."

Sam closed his eyes briefly as his gut churned at the unwinnable choice he had been given. In spite of how determined he was to stay with Dean as they hunted, he felt a truth to Isabelle's words that made him want to be sick. Dean was running out of time and while they had nearly 9 months left before he had to pay on his agreement, they still had to find some way to get him out of it. If Sam turned down this offer, he was gambling with not only Dean's life, but his very immortal soul and the stakes were far too high.

Sam could hear the shuffle of feet on the pavement and as he opened his eyes he could see the two girls walking away from him across the Car Park.

"Wait" he called harshly and as they turned, he tried hard to swallow with a throat gone suddenly dry "Just give me a minute."

The girls exchanged a look and then changed direction and began to walk back towards Sam.

He lowered his gun feeling both defeated and frustrated beyond words. Sam turned and returned back into the hotel room, closing the door on the two girls who were now waiting by the truck. He looked down at where his brother slept and felt his chest burn, despite the cool night air. Dean would be furious with him for leaving, but he could see no other way. His brother had already given him so much, if he were to turn down this opportunity and they were unable to find an alternative, Sam might as well put a gun to Dean's head and pull the trigger.

Sam studied his brother for a long moment galvanising his resolve. He wondered if John Winchester had felt this torn when he had left the boys on his many solo hunts. Then he pulled on a t-shirt and boots, hastily stuffed his belongings into his duffle and scribbled a small note to his brother so that he wouldn't worry. Looking back down at the note, it seemed like such a paltry gesture, but what more could he do. Then collecting his coat and the keys to the truck, Sam left, glancing back only for a moment to where his brother slept.

**

* * *

**

Day 286

**Huntington, Oregon – 9:49am**

Dean opened his eyes groggily. They felt gritty and heavy and his head was slow and sluggish like his had spent the night drinking. Lethargically he lifted his head to see the clock on the bedside table and the back lit 09:49 shocked him almost into being alert.

"Son of a bitch" he muttered as he pushed himself out of the bed. "Damn it Sammy, you should have woken me up sooner."

Dean's words were met with silence and he looked around the motel room for his brother. "Sammy" he called looking in through the bathroom door. "Sam" he called again with a growing sense of unease.

Pulling back the curtain he looked out int he car park and noticed that the Bronco was missing. That in itself was not that unusual, the brothers often took it in turns to fetch coffee or breakfast, but Dean could not dispel the growing concern that was curling through his gut.

He let the curtain go, and as is if fluttered back into place brushing across the bureau under the window and pushing the folded paper onto the floor at Dean's feet.

Dean reached down for the note, noticing his name scrawled in Sam's sharp edged script on the front. He flipped open the note and as he read, the knot that he been forming in his stomach, screwed itself into a full-blown mass of frustration and rage.

_'Dean,_

_Sorry for taking off in the middle of the night. I know you'll be pissed but just know that I didn't have much of a choice. I think I have found away to save you. I will call you when I can._

_Stay safe and watch you back._

_Sam '_

Dean screwed the note up in his fist and bagged it on the hotel door with such powerful frustration that a deep splintered dent formed under it. He hurried over to his night stand and dialled Sam's phone, but as he had suspected the call went unanswered and he was transferred to Sam's voice mail.

He was seething as he listened to Sam's message and when the tone finally sounded, it took every ounce of discipline that he had not to simply scream obscenities down the phone at his brother.

"Sam" he said forcing calm in his voice "I got your note and I'm not mad, I just don't understand. Ok so call me...and.. and ...just call me."

Dean snapped his phone shut angrily and began pacing the length of the room. It suddenly felt overly small to him and he was desperate to get out of there but at that thought, the full implications of what was really going on crashed over him. Sam was gone, the truck was gone, all of his weapons except for his back up pistol and his hunting knife were in the Bronco, and worst of all, the colt was gone.

Dean groaned, tugging at his hair as he continued to pace. He wanted to shoot something, or kick something or beat the crap out of someone, just to try and ease the coiled tension that had entered him when he had read Sam's note. Impatiently Dean dialled Sam's number again, he wasn't quite certain what he was trying to achieve by that, but maybe through some stroke of luck Sam might pick up and he could speak with his brother.

Hearing Sam's voice mail again only managed to wind Dean up even more, so as soon as he hung up, he dialled the only person that he could trust at the moment...he dialed Hannah.

"Hello" she answered and her voice was like a splash of cold water beating back the flames of his anger. "Dean what's wrong?" she asked before he could even speak, and her freakish talent only went further to calming him so that he could form rational thoughts.

"Sam's gone." he said his voice carefully contained as he spoke.

"Gone?" she questioned "What do you mean?"

"He took off in the middle of the night, took the truck and just disappeared. He left me some lame assed note about finding a way to save me and he's just gone."

"This is a foolish question I know" she replied "But have you tried calling him?"

"I go straight through to his voice mail."

"Well I know how that can suck" she said sardonically and Dean winced at the bite he heard in her voice.

"Will you help me Doc?" he asked, half expecting her to refuse. He wouldn't have blamed her, ever since they had met; Sam and Dean had managed to turn her life up side down.

"Dean" she admonished quietly "You should know by now that you never need to ask me that. What do you need?"

At her words Dean felt some of the tension fade from his aching gut and a curious warmth began to spread from the centre of his chest. To her they were such simple words, but to a man like Dean who valued loyalty as one of his highest ideals, it was more valuable than anything else she could have given him.

"I need a heading, a direction, a location, hell I'll even take a prominent land mark to give me some idea of where he is going. Will you look for me Doc?"

"I'll try" she said, but Dean could hear the doubt ringing in her voice.

The phone went silent for a long moment and Dean continued to pace the length of the room. One minute stretched out to several, and Dean was torn as to wether he should say something or not. When the Doc finally spoke, Dean let out the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding.

"I'm sorry" Hannah said her voice sounding slightly hollow and certainly wearier than it did before. "I have nothing. I just get like white noise whenever I look. He must be shielding himself."

"Fuck" hissed Dean in frustration, feeling his options decreasing by the minute.

"What will you do now?" asked Hannah, and Dean had exactly the same question going through his mind as Hannah spoke.

He took in a long cleansing breath and tried to focus his thoughts, anger wouldn't help him now, only logic would.

"Doc are you still near Spokane?" He asked his mind rapidly calculating possibilities.

"I'm not far." She replied "Why? What do you have in mind."

"I need you to go and see someone for me. It was the girl that Sam was seeing in Spokane" said Dean and his mind formulated, went through scenarios and calculated possibilities. If he was going to find Sam he was going to have to think like Sam and react like Sam.

This was just like poker, where you never played the cards you always played the man, but in this case you didn't play the situation, you played the protagonist.

"Alright?" said Hannah and Dean could hear her penning down the details of Wendy's address as he rattled them off to her.

"And what are you going to do?" she asked when he had finished.

"I am going to the last place that Sam talked about." Dean said, feeling infinitely better for having a plan of action. "I'm going to Utah."

"Utah is an awfully big state Dean" Hannah said, a hint of worry in her soft lilting voice. "If he is there, how will you find him?"

"I don't know" replied Dean honestly "But I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

* * *


End file.
